But when Flyaway first looked into Ruth's smiling face, with its black eyes and sharp nose, she could not remember that she had ever seen it before. Abner, too, was strange to her.
"Come here," said he, "and I can tell in a minute if you are a good little girl."
Flyaway cast down her soft eyes, and sidled along to Abner.
"Here, touch this watch," said he, "and if you are a good little girl it will fly open; if you are naughty it will stay shut."
Flyaway looked askance at Abner, her finger in her mouth, but dared not touch the watch.
"Who'd 'a thought it, now?" said Abner, pretending to be shocked. "Looks to be a nice child; but of course she isn't, or she'd come right up and open the watch."
Flyaway thrust another finger in her mouth, and pressed her eyelids slowly together. Abner did not understand this, but it meant that he had not treated her with proper respect.
"Here, Ruth," said he, in a low tone, "hand me one of your plum tarts; that'll fetch her.—Come here, my pretty one, and see what's inside of this little pie."
Flyaway was very hungry. She took a step forward, and held her hand out, though rather timidly.
"But she mustn't eat it without asking her mamma," said Ruth.