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Her gran'mam was plum mis'able over her shif'less ways, an' she set her to sew a seam befo' she could step outside the do'. The needle was dull, the thread fell in knots. Dinah's brow was mo' knotted up than the thread. Her head felt hot. "'Say you won't do it, hissed the voice. "'I'll git thrashed if I do. Gran'mam said so.
Come back, Love, Love! she called; then she dropped on her knees side o' Mose an' called him her honey an' her lamb, an' she cried with him, an' pulled him into her lap, an' when the ole gran'mam come in from where she'd been feedin' the hens, they was both asleep." Franz took a long breath, for the way the apple woman told a story always made him listen hard.
Perhaps it was the after-glow of the sunset in the sky, but a crimson flush sprang into her delicate cheek; her eyes were evasive, quickly glancing here and there with an affectation of indifference, and she had no mind to talk of love, she declared. But she should think of her gran'dad and gran'mam, he persisted. How had she the heart to deprive them of his willing aid?
"So Dinah threw herself down in the long grass and, bing! she fell right atop of a wasp, and he was so scared at such capers he stung her in the cheek. Whew! You could hear her 'way 'cross the cotton field! "Her ole gran'mam comforted her, the good soul. 'Never you mind, honey, she says, 'I'll swaje it fer you.
"Well, he didn't, an' Dinah made him mighty glad he got well, too; for she stopped buryin' her head in pictur' books, an' she did errands for gran'mam without whinin', an' she minded Mose so her daddy had mo' peace when he come home tuckered out; an' when she'd got so she could smile at the boy in the next cabin, 'stead o' runnin' out her tongue at him, the fairy, Love, could stay by without smoochin' her gown, an' Slap-back had to melt away an' sail off to try her capers on some other chile."
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