At the same time she allowed herself to be taken in Miss Polly's lap, and won that tender-hearted woman's love by putting her arms round her neck, and saying, "Let me kiss you so you'll feel all better. What makes you have tears in your eyes?—tell me."
"We're good friends—I knew we should be," said Miss Polly, quite cheerily. "Look out of the window, and see that swing. How many times I've pushed you and Dotty in that swing when it seemed as if it would break my back!"
Flyaway looked out. There stood the two trees, and between them hung the old swing; but the charm was forgotten. In the field beyond, her eye fell on an object more interesting to her.
"O, O," said she, "I don't see how God could make a man so homebly as that!"
"So homely as what?"
"Why," laughed Dotty, "she means that scarecrow."
The corn was up long ago, but one direful image had still been left to flaunt in the sunlight and soak in the rain.
"That isn't a man," said Prudy; "it's only a great monstrous rag baby, with a coat on."
"Put there to frighten away the crows," added Miss Polly. "When Abner dropped corn in the ground, the great black crows wanted to come and pick it out, and eat it up."
Flyaway frowned in token of strong dislike to the crows. "I wouldn't eat gampa's corn for anything in this world," said she,—"'thout it's popped! 'Cause I don't like it."