"That's great!" he cried. "That certainly is great, Miss Kitty. I thank you for that!" he flourished a clean blue cotton handkerchief, and blew his nose sonorously. "You weren't more than knee-high to a grasshopper first time you sang that to old John Tucker. Your Ma sang it, too!" he added. "I remember of her singin' it that same day we was speakin' of. Miss Kitty----" "Yes, John Tucker!" as he stopped abruptly. "I was thinkin' I'd take Crummles to the station this afternoon. He ain't been out to-day." "Yes, John Tucker. What else were you going to say?" John gave a short embarrassed laugh. "I dunno as I ought to say it, Miss Kitty. Wal! if you will have it--there was something Mis' Ross said that day has stayed by me, kind of. Something--what I mean--well, 'twas this way. Those two ladies was talkin' together, and I no business to hear what they was sayin', but yet I couldn't _but_ hear, bein' as I was holdin' the pony. Old Rosy Nanty! he was gettin' on in years, and he liked to lay down once in a while, and take a roll. He didn't mean no harm, he'd just antic a mite. So they was talkin', 'bout the children: they were both wropped up in 'em. Mis' Lee, she said something about young uns learnin' to know all sorts, kind of mix in, like, with folks in general: thought 'twas good for 'em and like that. And your Ma, she bust right out: 'No!' she says: 'my Kitty shall never know anything but what is lovely!' she says: and she went on, quoted the 'postle Paul and like that. I never forgot it. It kind o' sunk in. You weren't never to touch, or know, or think of, anything that wasn't just _so_, just--well, lovely, and good report, and that. You understand, Miss Kitty?" Kitty nodded brightly. "I understand, John Tucker. Go on!" "Wal! I dunno--I set here sometimes and mull over that, Miss Kitty, and wonder if we're doin' just what's right by your Ma. There! I guess it's got to come right out. I thought the first of it, takin' Madam Flynt for her ride and like that, 'twould be all right: of course you wouldn't be let to go to no trains nor nothin' of that sort. But come to see you kitin' round with tag rag and bobtail--what I mean,--I dunno as your Ma would _like_ it, Miss Kitty. Of course 'tisn't for me to say, but----" Kitty's eyes were dancing. She slipped from the arm of the chair, and stood before John Tucker, accusatory forefinger leveled. "John Tucker," she said slowly, "you--are--a--snob!" "Now, Miss Kitty, don't you----" "A snob!" Kitty repeated with withering emphasis. "I know perfectly well what you mean. You saw me pick up poor old Mrs. Flanagan and take her home. John Tucker, Mrs. Flanagan is eighty if she is a day; and that basket weighed half a ton, I am _sure_. Would you have let her carry it, if you had been prancing past with Pilot? I ask you, John Tucker!" John Tucker looked uncomfortable. "Mis' Flanagan has four children of her own," he said, "and ten grandchildren. She'd oughter let them carry her baskets."