"Scrumptious. Haven't you ever heard that? Oh, what a nin—I mean, oh, how funny!"
"And it ain't nice at all to have my father teach you," said Peletiah, with very doleful ideas of that study.
"Why?" asked Rachel, with gathering dread.
"Oh, he makes you learn things," said Peletiah dismally, drawing a long sigh at the remembrance.
"But that's just what I want to do," cried Rachel, with sparkling eyes;
"I'm goin' to learn an' learn, till I can't learn no more."
Peletiah was so occupied in edging off from her that he forgot to correct her speech.
"Yes, I'm goin' to learn," exclaimed Rachel, in a glad little shout, and, springing to her feet, she swung her arms over her head. "I'm goin' to read an' I'm goin' to write, an' then I can write a letter to my Phronsie."
She ended up with a cheese, plunging down on the grass and puffing out her gown like a small balloon.
"You can't do that," she said, nodding triumphantly up at the two boys.
"I don't want to," said Peletiah, sitting still on the door-stone.