Didn't we fling flat pebbles in the river to the tune of
"One to make ready,
Two to prepare,
Three to go slap-dash,
Right—in—there"?
And how we enjoyed our dinners under the spreading oil-nut tree, chatting as we ate, and deciding every day anew that Tempy Ann made the nicest sage cheese in the world, and our Ruthie the best turnovers.
Sometimes at night father took me on his lap, and asked,—
"Do you whisper any at school?"
I turned away my face and answered,
"Fel whispers orfly."
"Well, does Totty-wax whisper too?"
I dropped my head, and put my fingers in my mouth.
"Some," said I, in a low voice. For I began to have a dim idea that it was not proper to tell a lie.