“Well” ses she “I larned to make it in me Vassa days. Get me an aprun, Delia” ses she.
I brot her wan of her own—a little red gingum thin wid frills and pockits. She let him button it behind her, and he tuk so long she broke away larfing and blooshing.
“Now” ses she “You may help me. I want cream, sugar, butter and chocklett. A bit of vernilla too” ses she.
They set to work, busy and happy as childrun making mud pies. By and by the stuff was cooked, and she set him to mixing it, “and mix it stiff” ses she, “while I greese the pans.”
This dun, she took a spoon and scooping out a bit she hild it to his lips. He, not looking at the fudge, but wid his eyes fixed on her, opened his mouth and took in the spoon. Then he guv a yell and down drapped the spoon.
“Oh!” ses she, turning pail, “wuz it hot? Harry!” ses she, “I burned you!”
“You call me Harry!” ses he, and saysed hauld of her by the arms. I was watching wid all me eyes, whin I herd the dure squake a bit. Befure I cud move tords it Miss Claire roon oop aginst it and hild it closed wid her little hands.
“The china closet, Delia!” she wispered, and I shuvved Mr. Harry into the closet and banged the dure tite. Whin we let in Mr. John he looked about him.
“Whats the matter?” ses he, “Why did you hauld me out?”
“O” ses Miss Claire, gayly, “Its a game Delia and I are playing.”