The two children were sitting among the pines on the hill that overlooked their homes. A few hogs grunted near them among the cones.
“Of course, I’m not afraid when you’re here,” Hazel explained, “but when I come up alone sometimes they try to get around me and it makes me fidgety.”
“They might give you fleas,” said Scip.
He found a stick for her. “Hit ’em with that,” he said. “That’ll fix ’em.”
“Would it do for cows, too, Scip?”
“Yes’m.”
“I’m afraid of cows and pigs and I’m terribly afraid of bulls. I expect you think I’m a coward.”
“No, I don’t,” Scip said, looking squarely at her. “You wasn’t afraid of my father, Sunday night.”
Hazel changed the subject. “What do you want to do when you grow up?” she asked.
“Go to school.”