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"Oh, bybie!" exclaimed Tottie Bones, when, having clambered to the top of the knoll, she sat down on a tree-root and gazed on the cottage and the farm-yard, where hens were scratching in the interest of active chickens, and cows were standing in blank felicity, and pigs were revelling in dirt and sunshine "Oh, bybie! it's 'eaven upon earth, ain't it, darling?"
"I didn't forsake it," cried Tottie, with flashing eyes, and shaking her thick curls indignantly which latter, by the way, since her coming under the stern influence of Miss Stivergill, had been disentangled, and hung about her like a golden glory. "I left it to go to service, and mother takes care of it till I return home. I won't speak to you any more. I hate your bybie, and I adore mine!"
"I don't like your bybie at all not one bit," she said emphatically. "Not like my babby!" exclaimed Pax. "No, I don't, 'cause it isn't 'alf so good as mine." "Well," returned Pax, with a smile, "I was took from mine. I didn't forsake it like you."
"He's a very good bybie" so the child pronounced it "on'y rather self-willed at times, m'm," said Tottie, going through the athletic feat of lifting her charge. "Just so. True to your woman's nature. Always ready to apologise for the male monster that tyrannises over you. I suppose, now, you'd say that your drunken father was a good man?"
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