face.

"Won't you come and play with me?" she asked.

I took her out in the garden to show her where my watermelon had lain.
At the moment I couldn't think of anything else to show her. As we
walked along I observed that her feet were in dainty shiny button-shoes.
Suddenly I began to be ashamed of my feet that were browned by the
sunlight and scratched by the briers. The absent watermelon didn't seem
to interest her.

"Let's play house in the grove," said she, and showed me how to build a
house by laying rows of stones with an opening for a door.

"Now you be my husband," said she.

Oddly enough I had heard of husbands but had only a shadowy notion of
what they were. I knew that there was none in our house.

"What's that?" I asked.

She laughed and answered: "Somebody that a girl is married to."

"You mean a father?"

"Yes."

"Once I had a father," I boasted.

"Well, we'll play we're married and that you have just got home from a