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She generally poured into my cars a wail about her "rheumatisms", and "How long it do be waiting for the Lord"; but today she was too curious about Harold to think of herself. "Sure, Sybyller, who's that? Is he yer sweetheart? Sure he's as fine a man as iver I clapped me eyes on."
I proceeded to give his pedigree, but was interrupted by the arrival of the preacher, and we all went into the weatherboard iron-roofed house of prayer. After service, one of the girls came up to me and whispered, '11at is your sweetheart, isn't it, Sybyller? He was looking at you all the time in church." "Oh dear, no! I'll introduce him to you."
"Well, and what's your name?" said Harold laughingly. "Aurora and Roy. I belong to Sybyller, and got to tell you somesing." "Have you? Let's hear it." "Sybyller says you's Mr Beecher; when you're done tea, you'd like me if I would to 'scort you to farver and the boys, and 'duce you." Mother laughed. "That's some of Sybylla's nonsense.
"I'm glad you come at last, Miss Sybyller. The missus has been in a dreadful stoo for fear something had happened yuz. She's been runnin' in an' out like a gurrl on the look-out fer her lover, and was torkin' of sendin' me after yuz, but she went to her tea soon as she see the buggy come in sight.
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