"Laws a massy, but dat do sound scrumptious!" and Liza turned to the setting of the table.
Mary rested her hand for a moment on the back of the high chair, and the maid whirled about to gaze at the crying, kicking Amelia Anabelle.
"Why—why—what—pull yo' li'l hand away, Miss May-ree! Pull it away! Doan' yo' tech dat t'ing! Somebudy done put de conjure on dat doll!" and Liza, her eyes bulging, backed quickly toward the door.
"No, no, Liza, don't be afraid. She will be good. See?"
Amelia Anabelle was again smiling; but Liza stood in the hall, well out of harm's way, crying hoarsely, "Doan' yo' tech it, Miss May-ree, honey. It am a ha'nt!"
"Oh, dear, no!" laughed the little girl. "Father wouldn't give me a haunted doll. Who ever heard of a haunted doll, anyway? Please don't go away, Liza. Come and finish setting the table."
"Not while dat doll am sottin' dah, Miss May-ree!"
"But the doll can't do anything unless I push a button in the back of her neck. You are not afraid of the electric lights, are you?"
"Co'se I isn't, Miss May-ree."
"Well, you push a button to turn them on and off, and I push a button to turn my doll's head around and show her other face. She has two faces, you see. That's all."