"I'd rather have a good dish o' bread and 'lasses, than the hull on't," observed old Mrs. Finn, from the corner where she sat, manifestly turning up her nose at the far-off joints on Mrs. Rossitur's dinner-table.
The girls on the other side of the quilt again held counsel together, deep and low.
"Well, didn't she pick up all them notions in that place yonder? where you say she has been?" aunt Syra went on.
"No," said Fleda; "everybody does so in New York."
"I want to know what kind of a place New York is, now," said old Mrs. Finn, drawlingly. "I s'pose it's pretty big, aint it?"
Fleda replied that it was.
"I shouldn't wonder if it was a'most as far as from here to
Queechy Run, now; aint it?"
The distance mentioned being somewhere about one-eighth of New York's longest diameter, Fleda answered that it was quite as far.
"I s'pose there's plenty o' mighty rich folks there, aint there?"
"Plenty, I believe," said Fleda.