“Do you want anything, little girl?” asked he, frowning, or trying to frown.
“I say, what do you wear glasses for? You ain’t an old man.”
“No matter what I wear them for—” very sternly. “Do you want anything, child?”
“Yes, I came to ax you for some swifts.”
“What do you mean by swifts?”
“Lor now, don’t you know what swifts is? Swifts is something folks reels yarn on.”
“Well, we haven’t any in this house, little girl, and if that’s all you came for, you’d better run home.”
“Hain’t got no swifts?” shuffling forward with her small, bare feet, and peeping into the house through her straggling locks of hair. “Well, you’ve got a spin-wheel, hain’t ye?”
“No, we’ve nothing you want. You’d better go.”