“L-like the country, Cynthy—like the country better than the city?”
“Oh, yes,” said Cynthia.
“And country folks? L—like country folks better than city folks?”
“I didn't know many city folks,” said Cynthia. “I liked the old doctor who sent Daddy up here ever so much, and I liked Mrs. Darwin.”
“Mis' Darwin?”
“She kept the house we lived in. She used to give me cookies,” said Cynthia, “and bread to feed the pigeons.”
“Pigeons? F-folks keep pigeons in the city?”
“Oh, no,” said Cynthia, laughing at such an idea; “the pigeons came on the roof under our window, and they used to fly right up on the window-sill and feed out of my hand. They kept me company while Daddy, was away, working. On Sundays we used to go into the Common and feed them, before Daddy got sick. The Common was something like the country, only not half as nice.”
“C-couldn't pick flowers in the Common and go barefoot—e—couldn't go barefoot, Cynthy?”
“Oh, no,” said Cynthia, laughing again at his sober face.