I don't like flying hair about a kitchen."

"I wish my hair was flying somewhere a thousand miles from here;
or at least I should wish it if it did not mean leaving you; for
oh. I'm so miserable and disappointed and unhappy!"

Waitstill bent over the girl as she flung herself down beside the
table and smoothed her shoulder gently.

"There, there, dear; it isn't like my gay little sister to cry.
What is the matter with you to-day, Patty?"

"I suppose it's the spring," she said, wiping her eyes with her
apron and smiling through her tears. "Perhaps I need a dose of
sulphur and molasses."

"Don't you feel well as common?"

"Well? I feel too well! I feel as if I was a young colt shut up
in an attic. I want to kick up my heels, batter the door down,
and get out into the pasture. It's no use talking, Waity;--I
can't go on living without a bit of pleasure and I can't go on
being patient even for your sake. If it weren't for you, I'd run
away as Job did; and I never believed Moses slipped on the logs;
I'm sure he threw himself into the river, and so should I if I
had the courage!"

"Stop, Patty, stop, dear! You shall have your bit of pasture, at
least. I'll do some of your indoor tasks for you, and you shall
put on your sunbonnet and go out and dig the dandelion greens for