Chapter 6 WHAT FLOSSIE DID

In the great hall, at the Barnet house, the butler stood puzzling over the letters which the postman had left.

He dared not meddle with them, but he paused for a moment to study them as they lay upon his salver, while he wondered if the handwriting upon either envelope were in the least familiar.

The little French maid, peering over the baluster, laughed softly.

"M'sieur is curious, but he should not delay. The lettairs, it may be, of importance are, and the madam already waiting is."

With a soft, yet merry laugh, the maid returned to dress her mistress's hair, and the burly butler stalked up the stairway, angry that Marie should have seen him studying the letters, and annoyed by her saucy laugh.

"That girl is always 'round," he muttered.

It was Saturday morning, and although it was October, it was as warm as a June day.

Mrs. Barnet was in the hands of the French maid, and could not be disturbed while her hair was being dressed.

Flossie wondered what she could find to play with.

She wished that Saturday had been a schoolday.

Usually she found the baby amusing, but Uncle Harry's little daughter was out for an airing.

The kitten skurried down the hall and Flossie caught her, and ran off to the music-room.

She managed to clamber up on to the stool with pussy in her arms, and reached for the music, which she opened.

"Now that's a very nice song, kitty," she said, "but you needn't sing it; you can just practise the 'comfrement. Now one, two, three, begin!"

She held the kitten's paws, and forced them to press the keys.

"Me-u! Me-u!" squeaked wee pussy.

"You going to sing and play, too? Why, that's fine," said Flossie, "only you don't get the tune right."

"Me-u! Me-u!" wailed the white kitten.

"Now pussy darling, you're real sweet to try, but you don't sing the tune right; it didn't sound like that when Uncle Harry sang it last night. We'll sing it together, and maybe you'll learn it. Put your left paw on do, and your right paw on mi; now sing."

"Put your left paw on do, and your right paw on mi; now sing."

What a droll duet it was! Franz Abt's beautiful song was never before thus rendered.

"I love thee, dearest, thee alone,

Love thee, and only thee!"

sang Flossie, while little pussy, regardless of time or sentiment, sang "me-u! me-ow! me-u! me-u!"

"Our voices don't har-mer-lize, pussy, I know they don't. You'll just have to practise alone. That's what Mollie Merton's mamma said last night when Uncle Harry and Aunt Vera sang together. She said: 'Oh, how beautifully their voices har-mer-lize.' Now that's just what our voices don't do, so I'll put you right on to the keys, and you can practise the 'comfrement alone."

Flossie ran to the window to see if any of her playmates were in sight, while the kitten, left to amuse herself, walked slowly across the keyboard, and sat down upon the lower bass notes.

The French maid paused in the doorway.

"Ah, it is the petite beast that the bad music makes. I will the feline terrible remove, before she more mischief does do."

"Don't take the kitten out, Marie," cried Flossie, "I'm making her practise her lesson."

"Eh, bien! In this great mansion where all do so much learning have, even the petite cat must an education get! What more astounding could one behold?"

"I want to make her learn the song Uncle Harry sang last night. Did you hear him sing, Marie? Wasn't his voice sweet?"

"Ah, well did I the music hear. The sweet sounds did up the stairway float, and I did say: 'He is one beau gallant! His voice the rock would melt! Many hearts he must broken have before he loved Madame Vera who now his wife is.'"

"I don't know what you mean, Marie," Flossie said, "but I do know I love him, and I love to hear him sing."

"Oh, I could listen the day and the night when he music makes," the maid replied, and Flossie was satisfied.

A moment later Mollie, in great excitement, ran over to call for Flossie.

"Oh, do you know, Dorothy's mamma told my mamma that there's to be a great party at the stone house, and all of Dorothy's friends are to be invited. Now aren't you glad I came over to tell you?"

"When is it to be? I guess I am glad, Mollie Merton, and so will everybody be. When is the party to be?" she repeated, her blue eyes shining, and her little feet restlessly dancing.

"I don't know just when, but I guess it's pretty soon, and it's to be different from any party we ever went to. I don't know just how different; that part is a secret, but we are to know as soon as the invitations are ready."

"Oh, we 'most can't wait," said Flossie.

Of course the delightful news travelled, and by Monday morning every child in town knew that there was to be a grand party at the great stone house, but no one could find out just what sort of party it was to be. Even Dorothy could not enlighten them.

"It's to be fine," she said, "and different from any party I ever had, but mamma doesn't wish me to tell anything about it."

"Won't she let you tell Nancy?" questioned Katie Dean.

"Nancy knows now!" declared Reginald; "just look at her!"

Indeed Nancy's dark eyes were merry, and her voice rippled with laughter, as she said:

"I do know, and I'm going to keep the secret, but it's the hardest one I ever tried to keep."

At recess they walked arm-in-arm, talking of the party instead of playing games. They were chattering so gaily that they heard no one approach, and when suddenly Patricia Lavine peeped over the wall, they were startled, and wondered how she could have appeared without any one having seen her coming.

"Why, Patricia! Where'd you come from?" said Mollie.

"Oh, I was walking along and came over because I heard you talking. Whose party is it going to be?" she asked.

"Dorothy is to have the party," said Jeanette, "but why aren't you in school?"

"Why aren't you?" Patricia asked with a saucy laugh.

"It's recess time at our school," said Nina.

"Well, it's recess time at ours, too," Patricia replied.

"But you're a long way from your school," Reginald said.

"Am I?" queried Patricia, "well, I don't have to go to school every single day, as some folks do," she retorted.

"I know 'most all the tables now, and I know a little geog-er-fry, and 'most half of the history, 'cause some of it I learned when I was in N' York. We had a el'gant school there, and ma says I learned so much that I needn't go to school every day now."

Little Flossie looked quite impressed, but the older girls were not so sure that Patricia had gained so much knowledge.

No one spoke, and Patricia thought that they were all much surprised at what she had said.

"There's to be visitors at our school to-day, and teacher said she was going to let them ask questions," she continued.

"Guess you stayed away so as not to tell all you know," said Reginald.

Katie nudged him sharply, but he only twitched away, laughing because Patricia looked angry.

The little silver bell tinkled, and they turned to enter the cottage.

"Good-by," they called to Patricia, who stood at the gate.

"Good-by," she replied, then looking over her shoulder, she said:

"I'm glad I don't have to go to private school; it's too stupid."

"The horrid, rude girl," whispered Nina Earl, but Arabella surprised them all by saying:

"I think I'd like that Patricia What's-her-name; she isn't like everybody else."

Reginald heard what Arabella said, and in a loud whisper informed her that he wouldn't go to school if all the girls were like Patricia.

Arabella would have answered him sharply, but they were entering the schoolroom, so she was obliged to be silent.

Later, when they were asked to write upon the little blackboard, Arabella looked for a chance to tease Reginald.

"If he does anything that I can laugh at, I'll laugh till he's mad as a hornet," she whispered.

It happened that Reginald was the first to go to the board.

Aunt Charlotte asked for a sentence which should contain but five words, and yet tell a bit of news.

Every hand was raised.

Dorothy intended to write: "Nancy is a true friend," while Nancy thought that this would be interesting: "Dorothy will have a party," but Reginald felt sure that he had thought of the smartest sentence, and his face beamed with delight when he was told that he might write it.

He glanced toward Arabella as he strutted to the blackboard, and boldly he wrote:

"Phido has a new collar."

It was funny, and Reginald wondered why even Aunt Charlotte looked amused. Every one knew Fido, and only that morning the little dog had followed Reginald and Katie half-way to school, the bell on his new collar tinkling all the way.

That Reginald should have spelled the name "Phido" made them laugh, but Arabella was not contented with laughing; she fairly shouted.

"Well, I don't care if you do laugh," he said, his eyes blazing as he looked at her; "you spell photo, just p-h-o, and why can't Fido be spelt P-h-i?"

When the room was again quiet Aunt Charlotte told Reginald and Arabella to remain for a few moments after school.

When the other pupils had gone, Aunt Charlotte turned toward the two who still kept their seats, and very gently she told Arabella how rude it was to laugh at another's error, and how equally rude for Reginald to reply in so saucy a manner.

"A little girl should be a little lady," she said, "and a small boy should surely be a little gentleman."

Then Reginald spoke.

Looking straight into Arabella's eyes, he said:

"I guess I'm a gentleman, so I'll 'pol'gize; if I was just a boy I wouldn't, though."

Arabella was fully equal to a reply.

"I'm as much a lady as you are a gentleman, so I'll say I oughtn't to have laughed, but I won't say I'm sorry."

It was late afternoon, and Flossie, on the piazza, waved her hand to her playmates as they ran down the walk to the gate.

They had played delightful games, they had talked of the fine party which they would soon enjoy, they had guessed and guessed what sort of party it was to be, and Dorothy, who knew all about it, had laughed merrily because their countless guesses were nowhere near right.

"I wish playmates didn't ever have to go home," said Flossie, as she ran into the house.

There was no one in the hall save the baby, who sat in her carriage. The maid had just brought her in from a long ride, and had left her for a moment while she chatted with the butler and the cook. Flossie loved the baby, and she ran to the carriage to kiss the sunny little face that smiled at her.

"Oh, you lovely, lovely baby," she cried, "are you glad to see me?"

For answer the little one cooed sweetly, and snatched at Flossie's curling hair.

"Mustn't pull so hard, baby," pleaded Flossie, and just at that moment the maid returned, and rescued Flossie's ringlets from the little dimpled hands.

"You give her to me," said Flossie. "I'll sit on this rug and hold her. Uncle Harry said I could take this baby any time I want to, and I want to now."

The maid waited for no urging. Here was a chance for a few more moments of gossip. If Miss Flossie wished to take care of the baby, why not permit her to? Her Uncle Harry had given his permission, and as it was his baby, who could object?

For a few moments Flossie and the baby played upon the great hall rug. The bright-colored ball which Flossie had taken from her pocket was a pretty plaything, and the baby crowed with delight.

The butler and the maids were in the butler's pantry at the rear of the hall, but while their voices could be plainly heard. Flossie noticed nothing which they said until the maid spoke of the baby.

"She ees well, the petite belle, but upon her cheek the, what ees eet the doctaire did say?"

"Sure, Marie, 'tis a ould-fashioned rash, an' manny's the toime Oive seen ut on a babby's face, an' whoile the docthor makes a fuss about it, it's just nothin' at all, at all," responded Bridget.

"I'm thinkin' it don't pay to let it go an' not have the doctor see about it," growled the butler in a deep bass voice.

"An' ain't they seein' about it wid all their eyes, the ould docthor a-peekin' at the swate little thing t'rough his goggles, an' puttin' a wee bit t'ermom'ter into her mouth what for I do' 'no' unless 'tis ter foind out if it's near toime fer her ter be a-talkin'."

"He's very ugly, le m'sieur doctaire; if he was fine to behold it would be well. And what said he of the child? That at home she could not remain? If they do away take her M'sieur Harry will weep his fine eyes out."

"Oh, you little Frenchie!" exclaimed the butler with a jolly laugh, "you get things mixed. If it's nothing but a rash, as Bridget says, she'll stay here, but if it's measles she'll be hurried off up-stairs, and-"

"An' be quarantained, Oim tould," interrupted Bridget.

"Oh, Breejhay, what ees that?" cried the little French maid, and Flossie waited to hear no more.

Quarantined! Oh, what a big word, and what did it mean? Who was going to do that to dear Uncle Harry's baby?

No one! She would not let them!

Quickly she gathered the wee mite in her arms, wrapped the warm little cloak around her, and walking softly to the door, slipped out, the baby nestled close in her arms.

Across the lawn she trudged, past the summer-house, and on to the little clump of trees and shrubs which the children called the grove.

In a little nook between the tall hedge and the shrubbery she sat down, and took the baby on her lap. Fortunately it had no idea of crying; she loved Flossie, and she cooed contentedly.

And now the shadows were long, and the light breeze, growing stronger, swept in little chilly gusts across the treetops, and searching lower, tossed the small shrubs as if trying to discover Flossie's hiding-place.

She drew the baby's cloak closer around it, and bending lower, kissed it, and whispered lovingly:

"You're all safe with me, for I won't let that old doctor quantine you. You're Uncle Harry's own baby, and I won't let anybody hurt you."

VII

PATRICIA'S PROMISE

At the Barnet house all was excitement. Servants were rushing this way and that, searching for Flossie and the baby.

Again and again the maid insisted that she had left them in the hall but a few moments, and the cook and the butler declared that she had spoken truly, yet it seemed strange that in so short a time the two could have so completely disappeared.

In the midst of the excitement Uncle Harry came home, and he looked very grave when he learned the cause of their alarm.

Yes, the house and grounds had been thoroughly searched, they told him, and neither could be found, nor could any one remember having seen them after the baby had been brought in from her ride.

And while the other members of the household were searching in every direction, Uncle Harry secured a lantern, and went out into the shadowy garden, hoping that he might, in some forgotten corner, find the two children whom he so dearly loved.

Around the house, along the driveway toward the stable, down a little path to where the tall dahlias nodded; across the lawn to the open space where the new moon spread its sheen, then toward the shrubbery and the hedge.

Flossie saw the gleam of the bright lantern through the bushes, and huddled closer to the little shrubs. She believed that it was the butler who carried the lantern, and that he had been sent to capture the baby.

"Hush, hush-sh-sh!" she whispered, patting its shoulder gently.

It had no idea of crying, but she was so afraid that it might, and thus tell where they were hiding. It happened that the baby was sleepy, and snug and warm in Flossie's loving arms, it was quite content.

Nearer, and yet nearer came the light! Now it was going farther from her,-now returning, and now, oh, she must hold her breath!

A firm step trampled the underbrush, the lantern was swung high, and the two runaways were discovered. With a sob Flossie clasped the infant closer, hiding its face with her own.

"You sha'n't have this baby!" she cried, "for I won't let you! Nobody shall touch my Uncle Harry's baby; nobody's going to quantine her. I'm 'fraid out here, but I'll stay to take care of his own baby!"

"Flossie! Flossie, little girl, who has frightened you? Why are you hiding out here with the baby?"

"Go away!" she cried, holding the baby closer, "they've sent you to find us, but you don't know that they're going to quantine this baby, but I'll never let them do it."

"Flossie, Flossie, you're frightened, listen to me."

He put the lantern down, and seating himself upon the grass, placed his strong arm around Flossie, drawing the two closer as if to protect them.

"They are going to quantine this baby!" she cried, "and they sha'n't cut her head off 'cause there's spots on her face. She's your baby, and oh, I love you both!"

The wild note in her voice showed how genuine was her terror.

"Nobody shall harm baby, I promise you that, dear," said Uncle Harry, an odd quiver in his voice, "and you were a dear little girl to take care of her for me, but now I must take you both up to the house, for every one is hunting for you."

"But Bridget said they'd have to quantine,"-sobbed Flossie.

"Bridget was mistaken," he said, "and besides, no one is harmed by being quarantined. I'll tell you all about that at another time. You are about chilled through, and as you're not very huge, I guess I'll carry you both."

There was no help for it, so Flossie laid her head upon his shoulder, the baby, sound asleep, still in her arms, and Uncle Harry strode across the lawn, up to the piazza, and into the hall, where a frightened group were talking.

They crowded around him to learn where he had found them, but he raised his hand to stop the eager questioning.

Flossie had been badly frightened, and he felt that she must not be excited.

Once in her own little room with her mother bending over her, she listened eagerly while Uncle Harry explained what the maids had meant, and she sighed happily when she at last realized that the baby was safe from harm, and that she would remain right under the roof of their beautiful home.

When on the following day the old doctor called to see the baby, he laughed heartily at the story of Flossie's fear, and he declared that Flossie must have done a very fine thing for the baby. Its little pink cheeks were fair, and the tiny spots which had so frightened its young mother had been chased away, so the doctor said, by its long stay out in the evening air.

"Then I did do something nice for that baby," said Flossie, to which Uncle Harry responded:

"You were a brave little niece, Flossie," and Flossie was happy.

* * *

When the postman called on the morning of the next day, he brought an invitation for the long-dreamed-of party.

Then the secret was out as to what kind of party it was to be.

A fancy dress party! A costume carnival!

Of course the first question that each little friend asked of the other was:

"What are you going to wear?"

"Why, our prettiest party dresses, of course," said Mollie Merton.

Mollie, who was always very positive, was greatly surprised when Dorothy overtook them on the way to school, and explained that each little guest was expected to appear in a costume which should represent some well-known character in history or story.

"And mamma says we are not to tell each other what we're going to be," said Dorothy; "we're to wear long dominoes over our frocks, and we'll dance and play games, just peeping through eyeholes to see where we're going."

"And nobody'll know who anybody is," chimed in Nancy, "for Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte will receive, and Dorothy will walk up to greet them, so neither of us will even know who Dorothy is."

"What fun!" cried Jeanette, and the little group laughed gaily.

"Any boys besides me invited?" questioned Reginald.

"Yes, indeed, there are ever so many boys invited," Dorothy said. "My cousins Russell and Arthur are coming, and three of papa's nephews will be here. I've never met them, but they're coming for a little visit of a few days, and I'm to have my party while they're here."

"If you girls are going to wear those funny long cloaks, of course they'll hide who you are, but you'll every one of you know us fellows," said Reginald, who felt that the girls were more favored.

"Indeed, we won't know you," laughed Dorothy, "for papa insists that you boys must wear dominoes, too."

"Hurrah for us, I say!" shouted Reginald; "we'll have as much fun as you girls will."

"And we've two weeks to wait," said Katie Dean, "and all that time we're not to tell what we're to be."

"Nor even the color of our dominoes," said Jeanette.

"I sha'n't tell what I'm to be," Reginald proudly said, "but some of you girls will just have to tell; girls can't keep a secret."

"We can keep a secret, Reginald Dean," said Mollie, to which Flossie chimed in:

"Yes, indeed we can. I can't tell what I'm to be, because I don't know; mamma hasn't told me, but I do know what color I'm to wear, and I won't tell that!"

Reginald liked to tease.

"Somebody'll tell something, see 'f they don't!" he said, nodding and laughing.

* * *

It was now just a week from the day set for the party.

Arabella, hurrying along the avenue, tried to thrust her arms into the sleeves of her jacket.

"O dear! I shouldn't think this jacket had any armholes!" she cried impatiently.

She had hurried out before Aunt Matilda could stop her, and she was trying to get her jacket on without pausing to do so. At last her arms were in her sleeves, and she looked ahead to see if any one was in sight.

"She'll be awful cross if I'm late," thought Arabella, and she tried to run even faster.

There were two reasons for Arabella's haste. The first was that she had promised to meet Patricia, and the second reason was that it was Saturday morning, and if she remained at home Aunt Matilda would be sure to find something for her to do. Of course Aunt Matilda would ask where she had been, and why she had run out so early, and oh, no end of questions!

"It'll be by-'m-bye when Aunt Matilda questions me," whispered Arabella, adding cheerfully: "and by-'m-bye isn't now."

"Hello!" called Patricia, "you're some late, but not very."

"Why, I'm here as soon as you are," said Arabella.

"I know that," Patricia replied, "but I thought you'd be over to my house by this time."

"Aren't we 'most there?" questioned Arabella.

"Almost, and not quite," said Patricia, "and anyway I was going to stop at a store before I go over to my house. Ma gave me some money and I'm going to spend it for candy. Have you got any to spend?"

Arabella shook her head.

"Aunt Matilda won't let me spend money; she has her views about folks spending money, she says."

"I wouldn't want her for my aunt," said Patricia.

"Well, she isn't your aunt," snapped Arabella, and now they had reached the little candy store, and Patricia, grasping Arabella's hand, walked boldly in.

Arabella was greatly impressed, and when Patricia asked her which kind she would like to have, she managed to just whisper that any kind would do.

At Arabella's home Aunt Matilda reigned supreme, and it was said that no one, not even Mr. Corryville, dared spend any money, unless Aunt Matilda approved, but that might not be true.

Arabella thought it very grand that Patricia had enough money to buy whatever she wished, and her surprise increased when she chose a half-pound of two different kinds, ordering the clerk to put them in separate papers.

"You can have that bundle, and I'll have this," said Patricia, as they left the store, "and now we'll go over to my house, it's that one next to the school."

Arabella looked toward the house at which Patricia pointed. It did not look at all like the homes of her other friends. Patricia rang the bell, and they heard the lock slip, then they commenced to mount the stairs. The building was four stories high, and Patricia lived on the top floor.

"We like the top floor because it's so airy," she said.

Arabella said nothing, but when they were seated cosily in the corners of an old sofa, each with her package of candy, Arabella was glad that she had come.

A few moments later Patricia's mother entered. She was showily dressed, and her many pieces of jewelry made Arabella stare. She did not know that those glittering rings and bangles were worth very little money.

"Now, Patricia, you know I don't like to have you buy so much candy," whined Mrs. Lavine.

"I haven't much candy," replied Patricia, "that Arabella's got belongs to her."

Arabella looked quickly at Patricia. Was not that a sort of fib? Patricia had not said that Arabella had bought her package of candy, but she had certainly intended her mother to think so.

Mrs. Lavine took a book from the table, and sat down by the window to read.

Soon Patricia became restless.

"Let's go out again," she said, and in a few moments they were running down the stairs, and out into the street.

"I've got a little more money, and we'll have some ice cream," said Patricia.

Arabella wondered where she got her money, but dared not ask her, and while she was thinking about it Patricia spoke.

"I asked you over to my house because I think I'd like you for my best friend," she said, "and because I've got something to tell you."

Arabella stared at her through her glasses, but she said nothing.

"You're sort of old-fashioned," Patricia continued, "but I guess we can play together nicely, and you needn't be provoked at what I said, for we're going to have a secret the very first thing, and I'll tell it to you when we're having our ice cream."

They entered a tiny store which the sign stated was an "Ice Cream Parlor." There was room for but three little tables, but Arabella thought it quite grand, for the wall-paper was covered with gaudy flowers, and the ice cream was very pink.

They took tiny sips that the treat might last longer, and Arabella watched Patricia, and waited to hear what she had to tell.

At last Patricia lost patience.

"Why don't you ask what the secret is?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell it if it's worth telling?" Arabella asked, coolly.

"I guess it's worth telling," said Patricia. "Say, you'll be at Dorothy Dainty's party, won't you?"

"Of course I'll be there; my costume is 'most done."

"What's it going to be?"

"Why, don't you remember we are not to tell any one what we are to wear; not even the color of our dominoes?" Arabella asked in surprise.

"Well, we didn't promise not to tell," said Patricia, "and, anyway, I'm going to tell you. Ma has made me a Spanish dress, all spangles, and red ribbons, and gold tinsel, and my domino that will cover it for the first of the evening will be bright yellow! I've told you, Arabella Corryville, because now you'll know which I am, as soon as you see me, and you'll be just mean if you don't tell me now what you're going to wear."

Arabella hesitated.

"Dorothy wouldn't like to have us tell," she said.

"Well, we needn't tell her we told, and what about me? Here I've treated you to candy and ice cream, and told you all about my costume. If you were half-nice, you'd think you ought to tell me about yours."

Patricia's voice sounded grieved, and Arabella wavered.

Ought she to tell? She knew she ought not, but Patricia urged again.

"And I was going to say we could each wear a blue ribbon on the third buttonhole of our dominoes, so we'd know each other the minute we got there. And, say," she continued, "have you ever been all over the stone house?"

"Not in every room," said Arabella.

"Have you been in the observatory?"

"The what?" asked Arabella.

Patricia was sure that she had made a mistake.

"The room where the flowers are?" she said.

"Oh, the conservatory, you mean," Arabella said, grandly. "No, I haven't been in there, but I've seen the flowers from the doorway, and they're lovely."

"Well, they're twice as lovely when you're right in the room with them. I know, because I've been in there!" said Patricia.

"When?" queried Arabella.

"The last time I was there," Patricia replied, "and now I'll tell you something; there's something in that room that I know about, and not another girl knows it but me. I won't tell you what it is now, but at the party I'll do better than tell you; I'll show you. We'll go out into the hall when nobody is looking at us, and we'll go into the what-you-call-it,-"

"The conservatory," prompted Arabella.

"The conservatory," repeated Patricia, "and then you'll see what you'll see! I promise to surprise you."

"Don't you tell if I tell you," said Arabella.

"No, 'ndeed," Patricia agreed.

"Well, Aunt Matilda said she wouldn't let me wear anything flighty, so she's made me a dress like a Puritan, and my domino is tan color."

Arabella's curiosity forced her to tell all that Patricia longed to know, because she was simply wild to visit the conservatory, and find out what it was that Patricia could show.

With vows of secrecy they parted, Patricia walking slowly homeward; Arabella running all the way.

"Aunt Matilda'll say something, I guess, when she sees me," she whispered as she ran, "First thing she'll ask where I've been, and oh, I never thought to take those horrid pills! The bottle is in my pocket, and I've eaten candy and ice cream! It's lucky she don't know that; if she did she'd say, 'I shouldn't wonder if that child had fits before morning!' She don't know it, and p'r'aps I won't have the fits."