Tom was going to spend the night--what was left of it--with
Arthur in the granary, and so avoid the danger of disturbing
his parents by his late home-coming.
Pearl was too excited to sleep, so she brought out from
her bird-cage the little note-book that Mrs. Francis had
given her, and endeavoured to fill some of its pages with
her observations.
Mrs. Francis had told her to write what she felt and what
she saw.
She had written:
August 8th.--I picked the fethers from 2 ducks to-day.
I call them cusmoodles. I got that name in a book. The
cusmoodles were just full of cheety-wow-wows. That's a
pretty name, too, I think. I got that out of my own head.
The cheety-wow-wows are wanderers to-night, I guess. They
lost their feather-bed.
Arthur's got a girl. Her name is Thursa. He tells me
about her, and showed me her picter. She is beautiful
beyond compare, and awful savin' on her clothes. At first
I thought she had a die-away-ducky look, but I guess it's
because she was sorry Arthur was comin' away.
August 9th.--Mrs. Motherwell is gittin' kinder, I think.
When I was gittin' the tub for Arthur yesterday, and
gittin' water het, she said, "What are you doin', Pearl?"
I says, "gittin' Arthur a bath." She says, "Dear me, it's
a pity about him." I says, "Yes'm, but he'll feel better
now." She says, "Duz he want anyone to wash his back?"--I
says, "I don't know, but I'll ask him," and I did, too;
but he says, "No, thanks awfully.
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