He tried unsuccessfully to imitate her.
“Oh, Scip, you’re so funny. This is the sound of P, Pe̤, Pe̤.” She blew the P out from between her lips. “P—ig P—en, P—encil, P, P, P, say them, Scip.”
He did better this time.
“Now, can’t you think of something that begins with P yourself?”
“P, P, P, Peep,” Scip said, stumbling on the word by chance.
“Yes, that’s right. That’s what the chickens say, isn’t it? Have you chickens at your house?”
“Yes, Sister. We tries to raise ’em; but they ain’t pert like Aunt Ellen’s chickens.”
“There’s another P. P—ert. Don’t you hear it, Scip?”
He repeated it after her.
“Good! Now I’ll write these words for your lesson to-morrow. Can you come here to-morrow, do you think?”