alowance. He charges her 1
cent a sin and he gives it to somebody who is indignant--I think Rhoda
said indignant. Then I should think he would give it back to Rhoda. I
shant only ask Aunt Olivia for 5 cents--I think she will be more likely.
I havent desided but I THINK I shall ask her tomorrow after her knap.
After knaps you are more rested and maybe things don't look just as they
do before knaps.

"'FRIDAY.--I think Ide better wait untill tomorrow. Her knap was rather
short. Ive desided to say you needent alow but 4 if 5 is too mutch. If
she alows Im going to buy me some crimpers. Rhodas curls natchurally but
she says you can crimp it if it doesent. I have begun to look at myself
in the glass and it fritens me--I guess there ought to be a gh in
that--to see how homebly I am. I wonder if it doesent kind of scare Aunt
Olivia. Prehaps if I was pretty like Rhoda she would call me darling and
dear instead of Rebecca Mary. I dont blame her mutch because I LOOK like
Rebecca Mary.

"'SATURDAY.--I think Sunday will be the best time to ask her, just
after she gets home from meeting and has rolled her bonnet strings up,
espesialy if the minnister preaches on the Lord lovething a cheerful
giver. I am hopeing he will. If I dont get the crimpers Ime going to
give up looking in the glass. For I think Ime growing homeblyer right
along. Theres something the matter with my nose. Rhodas doesent run up
hill. I never thought about noses before. Aunt Olivias is a little quear
too but I like it became its Aunt Olivias nose. I wish I knew if Aunt
Olivia liked mine. I wish we were better akquainted.

"'SUNDAY.--I wish the Lord had created mine curly because I dont dass
to ask Aunt Olivia. I don't dass to, so there. It scares my throat. I
supose its because aunts arnt mothers--seems as if youd dass to ask your
MOTHER. I hate to be scart on acount of being a Plummer. Im afraid Im
the only Plummer that ever was--'"

The reading suddenly stopped here. This was Sunday, and the last entry
was fresh from Rebecca Mary's pencil.

"Thomas Jefferson!" stormed Rebecca Mary, in a little gust of passion,
"don't you ever TELL I was scared! As long as you live!--cross your
heart!--oh, I wish I hadn't read that part to you! You're a Plummer too,
and you never were scared, and you can't understand--"

The diary was clutched to Rebecca Mary's little flat breast, and with a
swirl of starched Sunday skirts the child was gone. She went straight
to Aunt Olivi