eks, I hope," he answered her just as quietly,
comprehending her instantly.

"I'll be good--and wait," she answered him in a Hone of voice that
would have done credit to little Bettie Pratt. "Let's hurry and get
that bucket of water; don't you hear them singing the doxology?"

CHAPTER VI

THE PROVIDENCE TAG-GANG

"Miss Elinory, do you think getting married and such is ketching, like
the mumps and chickenpox?" asked Eliza Pike as she sat on the steps at
the daintily shod feet of the singer lady, who sat in Mother Mayberry's
large arm-chair, swinging herself and Teether slowly to and fro,
humming happily little vagrant airs that floated into her brain on the
wings of their own melody. Teether's large blue eyes looked into hers
with earnest rapture and his little head swayed on his slender neck in
harmony with her singing.

"Why, Eliza, I'm sure I don't know. Do you think so?" answered Miss
Wingate, as she smiled down into the large eyes raised to hers. The
heart-to-heart communions, which she and Eliza found opportunities to
hold, were a constant source of pleasure to Miss Wingate, and the
child's quaint little personality unfolded itself delightedly in the
sunshine of appreciation from this lady of her adoration.

"Yes'm, I believe I do. Mis' Pratt and Mr. Hoover started it, and last
night Mr. Petway walked home with Aunt Prissy and Maw set two
racking-chairs out on the front porch for 'em. Paw said he was more'n
glad to set in the back yard and smoke his pipe. Maw wouldn't put
Teether to bed, but rocked him in her lap 'cause he might wake up and
disturb 'em. She let me set up with her and Paw and he told tales on
the time he co'ted her. She said hush up, that co'ting was like mumps
and chickenpox and he was about to get a second spell. Does it make you
want a beau too, Miss Elinory?"

"Well," answered Miss Wingate slowly with a candor that would have been
vouched no other soul save the sympathetic Eliza, "it might be nice."

"I thought you would like one," answered Eliza enthusiastically, "and
you know I had done picked out Doctor Tom for you, but since I saw him
dress up so good this morning and go to Bolivar to take the train to
the City and he got the letter from Miss Alford day before
yesterday--that is, Aunt Prissy says Mr. Petway thinks it was from
her--I reckon it won't be fair to get him for you, when she had him
first last summer. Oughtn't you to be fair about taking folk's beaux
just like tak