"Oh, yes!" Miss Theodosia brightened perceptibly. "I know the one that went to market and the one that stayed at home--all five of them I know." "But you don't know Elly Precious's extra little pig!" crowed the reassured Evangeline. "Just _us_ know that one. I made him up. When you have six toes,--I mean when Elly Precious has,--you have to have six pigs. After the one that can't get over the barn-door sill, I say: 'This little pig said--' wait, I'll say the last two together so you'll see they rhyme beautifully. Reg'lar poetry. "'This little pig said, "Quee! Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door sill.'" "'_This_ little pig said, "He! He! He! when you tickle, I can't keep still!'" "Elly Precious wiggles it when I tickle! We laugh like everything. I think it is pretty good poetry," added Evangeline modestly. "It is beautiful poetry. I never could have begun to make up such a lovely, ticklish little pig!" Evangeline leaned back again in the soft cushiony embrace of the great chair and actually achieved a moment of silence. The talkative clock on Miss Theodosia's mantel filled in the space. Then once more Evangeline: "But I shall never have any." "Any--pigs?" smilingly. "Children. Not any. I've decided I'll rest. They're such a care. But of course I can run in an' undress Stefana's an' Elly Precious's--mercy gracious, Elly Precious's!" It required too great a mental effort to visualize them. Elly Precious's children were _funny_! Evangeline giggled softly. "Then I'll be a gran'mother, won't I! I've always wanted to be a gran'mother an' say what I did when _I_ was a child an' how I always _minded_." A fresh giggle. "'_I_ never had to be _told to_ twice, my dears,' I'll say to Elly Precious's children! They'll all be my dears. I'll help bring 'em up. Isn't it queer," broke forth Evangeline suddenly, "how when you get to be old you never were bad when you were young? The badnesses have kind of--kind of faded out. I bet there _were_ badnesses!" And Miss Theodosia found herself nodding decisively. She, too, bet there were. A hilarious little crow suddenly sounded from without the window; it was accompanied by a deep man-sound of mirth. Miss Theodosia and Evangeline smiled across at each other indulgently. "Elly Precious is havin' a good time. That's his good-time noise. Oh, I think he's a nice person, don't you?" "Nice? I love him!" cried Miss Theodosia warmly. Her face that was still the face of a girl was tenderly flushed. "I love every inch of him, Evangeline." "Merry gra--that's a lot of lovin'! I guess you are ahead o' me!" "Evangeline Flagg, aren't you ashamed! When he is the dearest, cunningest--" "Not--not _cunnin'est_. But he's got beautiful whiskers. I mean if he didn't shave 'em off. When he came, he had 'em on. You can't love his whiskers when you never saw--" Miss Theodosia held up a limp hand to stem this terrible tide of words. "Oh, stop! _wait_, Evangeline!" she begged. "Who are you talking about?"