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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Could you do it now?" asked Lizzie, eagerly. "Mebbe I could," answered Becky, warily; "but it's a good bit ago." "When you were young," cried one of the company with a giggle. "Yes, when I was young," repeated Becky, in exact imitation of the speaker, whose voice was very flat and nasal. Everybody laughed, and one of the girls cried: "Becky'll get the best of you any time."
"Why, what's the mattah, honey?" she exclaimed. "Did Emma Louise make you mad? Or is you cryin' 'cause you're so ti'ed? Come! Ole Becky'll tote her baby the rest of the way." She picked the light form up in her arms, and, pressing the troubled little face against her shoulder, resumed her walk and her song. "It's a world of trouble we're travellin' through, Fa'well, my dyin' friends."
You're always telling secrets." "Well, just half, Milly, I won't tell it all you know. It's just like something burning inside my mouth. We're going to make you something, Becky, when we get home. Something be ootiful, you know. And you can look at it in bed, and we won't make it big, so you can turn over the pages, and " "Be quiet, Olly," said Milly, "I should think Becky'll guess now.
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