“I don’t know. Anybody that was a stranger and celebrated would do.”
“You’re like me in one respect. You want a brand-new article, not something you’ve been used to seeing since infancy.”
“I should like a President,” said Berty, wistfully, “but when men come to the presidential chair they’re all too old for me.”
“But it must be ennobling for you to have such an ambitious spirit,” observed Tom.
“It does make me feel nice—Hark! isn’t that Grandma calling?”
“Yes,” replied Tom. “Let us go see what she wants.”
“Berty, Berty,” the distant voice was saying, “isn’t it time to put the kettle on? We must get home before dark.”
“Yes, Grandma, dear,” called Berty. “Tom Everest is here. He will help me find some sticks. You please sit still and rest—come, Tom, and speak to her first,” and smiling and playing with the dancing mongrel pup, Berty ran up the slope.