“Now, pork?” he suggested, but with less assurance.
But Birdie was obdurate.
“Never,” she declared emphatically. “Beans, yes. There’s good nourishment in beans. Then ther’s fresh vegetables––heaps of ’em.”
“Ah! Now, how ’bout fixin’ them right––the kids, I mean? Guess they’ll need bathin’.”
But Birdie fell upon him with a strong denial.
“Bath?” she cried. “Gee! you do run on. Guess you want to hand ’em newmony. Kids sure don’t never need bathin’. Jest a lick with soap an’ hot water once a week. An’ say,” she went on, suddenly remembering something she had told Toby in a fit of mischief, “kep their food soft, or you’ll break their young teeth.”
Sandy’s eyes lit, and in an unguarded moment he admitted that the thought had occurred to him. Birdie caught him up at once.
“I tho’t you was just astin’ me these questions to see if I was right for gettin’ married?” she protested innocently.
“That’s so––course,” he said hastily. Then he wriggled out of it. “But how’d I be able to say you was right if I hadn’t tho’t on things some myself?”
“Ah! I didn’t just think of that.”