"No, indeed," said the child, a fine scorn kindling her features; "no,
indeed. We were going to have General Morgan and Uncle Charlie and you. Of
course it was make-believe. That's the way we play, but we like it ever so
much."

"Well, if I take your chicken fixings you can't have any tea party."

"O yes, I can. I can just make-believe some hungry soldier has come along
and eaten it all up."

"There is no make-believe about that," laughed the soldier; "that's real."

There was a smothered sound in the direction of Polly. The boy turned
toward her, evidently seeing her for the first time.

"What's the matter with you, tar baby?"

"I wuz gwiner tell you erbout de time de Union sojer stole Miss Betsy's
bee-hives, en he wuz dat hongry he pitch en ter de honey fo' de bees got
out, en one git en hees frote en stung him; Lawdy, how he hollered! But I
won't, cors you called me tar baby."

"I beg your pardon, I meant no offense. I just have an unfortunate habit
of calling things by their names. I am like the hungry old lady who sung:

"'Alack-alack, alack-alack!
A dinner's a dinner, a snack's a snack.
I can call them none other, alack-alack!'

"But I think I have gotten the gist of your story from the preamble; so