One day, when we first came to St. John's, we heard two quiet whispers at the ivy's roots:
"Sometimes um shakes out bread-'n'-butter."
"'N' sometimes um shakes out tart!"
"O-o-o!" answered the first whisper. "Tart? Truly tart?"
"Bet yer heye! One day I hadn't had nothink to heat all day, an' I was a-'idin' 'ere, 'cos Miss Sally howed me a trouncin'. I were just a-starvin'; an' I said to myself, 'Good Lord, don't I jest wish I had a-somethin' to heat!' Jest then, bang came a great piece o' goose-berry tart right on to my 'ead!"
"Tart!" murmured the first whisper, in utter amazement. "Tart! Do ye s'pose we could get some more?"
"Let's see."
Then we conspirators above heard thick-toned mumble among the leaves,—
"Wishy, wishy, wishy wee,
Wishy send some tart to me."
Fat little American legs flashed to the pantry.