She was studiously silent for a moment, her feet still swinging to and fro underneath the porch. "I know these woods better'n you."
"But we are to suppose that the hour is very late and you are quite afraid to go into the woodland for fear some wild beast will catch you."
Her merry laughter rang over the mountain.
"Would ye help me agin?" she asked.
"Every time."
Again she sat silent.
"Old brindle mout git out agin and she mout git lost. Whut's ther book ye brought me?"
"A story of the Dark Ages."
"Whut's that?"
"What?"