but it will not amount to anything. You will not get a premium on
White-foot, if you take him. He isn't big and handsome enough. You've
looked at him till your eyes think he is, but he isn't. I shall not tell
father that I think he will take a premium, because I want father to
respect my judgment more than that."

"Kate, you don't know anything about colts!" cried Tom. "That's the best
colt in this town!"

"O my! O my!" groaned Kate. "Once let a boy begin to dote on a colt,
particularly if he calls it _his_ colt, and he can soon see beauty,
size, speed, everything else in it, in matchless perfection. It's a kind
of disease, a horse-disease that gets into his eye. Tom's got it badly.
Please excuse his boasting!

"Here, Tom, pass this nice buttered ear of corn over to Halse, and tell
him that I didn't mean to hurt his feelings--quite so badly," she added.
"I only meant to hurt them a little."

This was like Kate; she would always talk like that; but she rarely said
more than was true and never treasured up ill-feeling, nor wished others
to do so.

But Halse would not accept her peace-offering.

"Ah, well," sighed Ellen, "I really am afraid that there is nothing I
shall ever be able to do that will bring me either fame or money. I
cannot think of a thing that I am good for."

"Oh, yes, there is!" cried Addison. "You have a sure hand on pop-overs,
Nell, pop-overs and cookies."

"Right, Ad, I can make pop-overs," replied Ellen, laughing. "Perhaps I
can get a living, cooking."

"Well, that is a pretty important thing, I think," remarked Thomas,
candidly. "Somebody must know how to cook, and I like to have victuals
taste good."

"I do not think those who cook get much credit for their labors," said
Kate. "Mother and I are cooking every day and our men folks come in, sit
down at table and swallow it all, with never a word of praise when we
cook well; but if we make a mistake, and bread, or cake, or pie does not
taste quite right, then they will growl and look at us as surly as if we
had never cooked well in all our lives. I think that is rather hard
usage and poor thanks for long service. Mother does not mind it. 'Oh,
that is something you must get used to, Kate,' she says to me. 'Men
folks always behave so. We never get much praise for our cooking.' But I
do mind it. When I've made a nice batch of tea rolls, or cakes, I want
them to know it and to act as if they appreciated it."

"That is just the way it is at ou