“I quarrelled with Scipio, Granny,” Hazel pursued, her cheeks hot, “because I saw him beat his little brother Tom.”
“Tom ain’t good for much,” said Granny dryly. “He’s lazy.”
“But he’s so little,” Hazel pleaded. She put down the flowers and, stooping, picked up the kitten playing on the hearth. “He’s little, like a kitten.”
Granny smiled sadly as she replied: “I’s afraid the children here has to learn to catch mice mighty young. Scip has worked ever since he could toddle to the cotton fields. He thinks Tom might naturally help him.”
“They ought both to be at play,” Hazel said with a little catch in her breath. “You said so this morning. It’s spring.”
CHAPTER XI
CHOOSING A BIRTHDAY
“Monday’s child is fair of face;
Tuesday’s child is full of grace;
Wednesday’s child is happy and glad;
Thursday’s child is sour and sad;