“Dear me!” said Miss Bell, cheerfully, “I was just thinking things were unusually lively for the time of year. There's something startling every other day. Aggie Williams found her fine, new kitchen range too big for the accommodation, and she has covered it with cretonne and made it into a whatnot for her parlor. Then there's the cantata; I hear the U. P. choir is going to start to practise it whenever Duncan Gill next door to the hall is gone—he's near his end, poor body! they're waiting on, but he says he could never die a Christian death if he had to listen to them at their operatics through the wall.”
“It's not a bit like this in Chicago,” said the child, and her uncle chuckled.
“I dare say not,” said he. “What a pity for Chicago! Are you wearying for Chicago, lassie?”
“No,” said Bud, deliberating. “It was pretty smelly, but my! I wish to goodness folk here had a little git-up-and-go to them!”
“Indeed, I dare say it's not a bit like Chicago,” admitted Auntie Bell. “It pleases myself that it's just like Bonnie Scotland.”
“It's not a bit like Scotland, either,” said Bud. “I calc'lated Scotland 'd be like a story-book all the time, chock-full of men-at-arms and Covenanters, and things father used to talk about, Sundays, when he was kind of mopish and wanted to make me Scotch. I've searched the woods for Covenanters and can't find one; they must have taken to the tall timber and I haven't seen any men-at-arms since I landed, 'cepting the empty ones up in the castle lobby.”
“What did you think Scotland would be like, dear?” asked Ailie.
“Between me and Winifred Wallace, we figured it would be a great place for chivalry and constant trouble among the crowned heads. I expected there'd be a lot of 'battles long ago,' same as in the 'Highland Reaper' in the sweet, sweet G. T.”
“What's G. T.?” asked Auntie Bell; and Bud laughed slyly and looked at her smiling Auntie Ailie, and said: “We know, Auntie Ailie, don't we? It's GRAND! And if you want to know, Auntie Bell, it's just Mr. Lovely Palgrave's Golden Treasury. That's a book, my Lord! I expected there'd be battles every day—”
“What a blood-thirsty child!” said Miss Ailie.