"'Wal!' says old Rowe. 'Fact is, Job's ben in the habit of feedin' sawdust to that hoss, and keepin' green goggles on him so's he'd think 'twas grass. Come to give him a good feed, ye see, and 'twas too much for him, and car'd him off.' "So what I say is, you tell Mis' Hollopeter she wants to be careful how she feeds Pindar up, that's all." "Seth Weaver, if you ain't the beat!" exclaimed Miss Penny. "I believe you made that up right here and now. Ain't you ashamed to tell such stories?" "Not a mite! not a mite!" said Seth, comfortably. "Take more'n that to shame me. Ask Annie Lizzie if it don't. Here she comes along now. Ain't she a pictur'?" Annie Lizzie came blossoming along the street in her pink calico dress; her pink sunbonnet was hanging on her shoulders, and her soft dark hair curled round her face just for the pleasure of it. She was swinging a bright tin pail in her hand; altogether the street seemed to lighten as she came along it. "Hello, Annie Lizzie!" said Seth, as she came up to the shop. "Comin' to see me, ain't ye?" "I guess not!" said Miss Penny. "I expect she's come to see me, ain't you, Annie Lizzie? I've got a new piece of ribbin in, jest matches your dress, and your cheeks, too." Annie Lizzie dimpled and smiled shyly. "I'd love to see it, Miss Penny," she said; "but first I come with a message for Mr. Weaver." "Then I'll go and feed the rest of them birds," said Miss Penny. "There! hear 'em hollerin' the minute I say 'feed'? They are the cutest!" She vanished into the shop, and Seth looked up at the young girl with a friendly twinkle. "Back stairs again, Annie Liz?" he asked. "I expect to get at 'em to-morrow, honest I do." "No, sir, 'twasn't the stairs this time," said Annie Lizzie, looking down. "Ma didn't know I was comin', or she might have said something. I come with a message from Tommy, Mr. Weaver. He wanted to know could you spare him some white paint." "What does he want of white paint?" asked Seth. "Wants to paint the front gate," replied Annie Lizzie. "Sho!" said Seth. "The front gate was painted only last fall. There ain't no need to paint it ag'in for three years." "I know!" said the girl, patiently. "But all the same he's goin' to paint it, and he wants you should put somethin' in it so's it won't dry." "So's it _will_ dry, you mean!" corrected Seth. "Tell him I won't do it. Hastenin' white paint's like hastenin' a mud-turtle; it's bad for his constitution, and _then_ he don't get anywheres. White paint has to dry slow, or it's no good. You tell Tommy that, and tell him he'd oughter know it, much as he's hung round my shop." "He doos know it!" said Annie Lizzie, in her cooing voice. "He don't want it to dry, Mr. Weaver." "Don't want it to dry!" repeated Seth.