"These were kind of bushy ones. I think it was Carlyle."

"Wait a minute while I read this thing over carefully again," Kit warned
them. "I think while we're alone we ought to discuss it freely. Mother
just took it as if it were a case of 'Which shall it be, which shall it
be, I looked at John, John looked at me.' It seems to me, since it
concerns us vitally, that we ought to have some selection in the matter
ourselves."

"But Kit, dear, you didn't read carefully," Jean interposed with a little
laugh. "See here," she followed the writing with her finger tip. "He says,
'Send me the boy.' There isn't any boy."

"No," Kit agreed, thoughtfully, "but I presume there should have been a
boy. I'm more like father than any of you, and I'd love to have been the
boy in the family. I wonder why he said that."

"Well, it certainly shuts off any further negotiations because 'there
ain't no sech animal' in the 'robin's' roster. And no matter what you say,
Kit, I don't think you're 'specially like father at all. He hasn't a quick
temper and he's not a single bit domineering."

Kit leaned over her tenderly.

"Dearest, am I domineering to you? Have I crushed your spirit, and made
you all weak and pindlin'? I'm awfully sorry. I didn't mean that my bad
traits were inherited from Dad. What I meant was my glorious initiative
and craving for novelty. Just at the moment I can't think of anything that
would be more interesting or adventurous than going out to Uncle Cassius,