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Katy gave Rose a last kiss, and went down the hall. But little Rose was so fascinated by the appearance of the white dress and veil that she kept fast hold of Katy's hand, disregarding her mother's suggestion that she should slip down the back staircase, as she herself proposed to do. "No, I want to do with my Aunt Taty," she persisted.
Captain John stepped to one of his still loaded guns and pointed it carefully at a plank floating out at the mouth of the Cove a plank knocked by the cutter's guns out of Uncle Bill Leggo's 'taty patch, and now drifting out to sea on the first of the ebb. He pointed the gun carefully, let fly, and knocked the bit of wood to flinders. "That's what I do when I try," he said.
"Let me det down, pease," said that young lady, the first remark she had made. "I tan walk all by myself. I am not a baby any more." "Will you hear her talk?" cried Katy, catching her up. "Isn't it wonderful? Rosebud, who am I, do you think?" "My Aunt Taty, I dess, betause you is so big. Is you mawwied yet?" "No, indeed. Did you think I would get 'mawwied' without you?
"Thank 'ee, friend. There's nothin' I relish more than a white-fleshed 'taty, well-grown an' well-boiled. Not a trace o' disease anywhere," observed the corporal, running his eye over the rows and bringing it to rest on the newly-turned soil at his feet. "Eh? Hullo!" He stooped and picked up a sovereign. "That's mine!" Nicky-Nan claimed it hastily. "I must ha' dropped it "
Straight toward Katy she went, and with her small hands behind her back and her blue eyes fixed full on Katy's face, repeated with the utmost solemnity the following "poem:" "I'm a messender, you see, Fwom Hymen's Expwess Tumpany. All these little bundles are For my Aunty Taty Tarr; If she knows wot's dood for her She will tiss the messender."
'Up wi' him! cried Madge wi' the Fiery Face, who had just been loosed from the 'jougs, wherein she had been confined for 'kenspeckle incontinence. 'Up wi' the clarty callant! Let him swing like a corby craa i' a taty patch! But the canny wife of the Provost, douce man, plucked him by the sleeve. 'Dod! man, she whispered him in the ear, 'he's a braw chield for a' that.
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