“I wouldn’t keep a dawg roun’ nohow,” said Aunt Ruby eyeing the delinquent sternly. “I’d mos’ as lief hev a rattlesnake. I shouldn’t never sleep easy in my bed won’erin’ an’ won’erin’ what the pesky crittur ’ud do nex’.” “I know that Diana is very naughty now, but she is only a puppy, and she’ll get sense by and bye, and it is so nice to have something that is your own and loves you, and doesn’t care for any body else, you know,” observed Olive somewhat rashly. “Wal, I reckon you’ll hev a sight o’ trouble ’long o’ that dawg ’fore you learn it the rights o’ people, let alone teachin’ it community idees,” said Aunt Ruby. “No, you can’t teach a dog communistic notions, thank goodness,” observed Olive, patting the sinful Diana. “Reckon you ain’t partic’ler sot on the idees of Perfection City,” said the old lady, looking at her visitor with bright twinkling eyes. “I allow there be a p’int or two we’ll hev to consider over agin at ’Sembly. We are gettin’ on too fas’ fur this here prairie folk, they hain’t got the sense to un’erstan’ all o’ our highest principles. Guess while there’s Injuns roun’ we hed better jes’ hol’ back a mite ’bout non-resistance.” “Oh,” said Olive, who had never given any attention to this point, being as indifferent as the wives of strong men usually are. “I never heard a word about Indians. Are there any about?” “Not as I hearn on special. But there’s Injuns and worse nor Injuns in the world, an’ I reckon we’d better take that p’int up at ’Sembly and see if we can’t do su’thin’ to make things a bit straight,” said Aunt Ruby in language that was vaguely enough expressed to serve in the highest walks of diplomacy. “Oh, I dare say,” replied Olive carelessly, “some very excellent reason could be devised to excuse a departure from any one of the Perfection City principles, which seem more difficult to manage in practice than on paper. They are all pretty new, and of course can’t be expected to be as useful in all the difficult circumstances of life as principles which have stood the test of time.” “Dear me, suz!” exclaimed Aunt Ruby admiringly. “How gran’ you kin talk! Deal sight finer nor Brother Wright. Why don’t you hold forth in ’Sembly? I’d liefer hear you nor any on ’em. I’m jes’ ’bout tired o’ listenin’ to Brother Wright. Lard! how he do love to hear his own voice! Hens is jes’ like that too, they’ll talk an’ talk till you’re mos’ crazy, an’ they hain’t nothin’ to say, on’y jes’ to cackle an’ hear themselves talk.” Olive agreed with Aunt Ruby, but hardly dared to express her opinion in all its force. Therefore she turned the conversation by inquiring had she ever heard anything about lynch-law and about its being put into practice in their neighbourhood? “Course I hev, an’ hearn o’ hangin’ too.” “Do Perfection City principles uphold hanging?” asked Olive. “Guess not,” was the reply. “No matter if it was for murder?”