like the mumps and chickenpox?" asked Eliza Pike as she sat on the
steps at the daintily shod feet of the singer lady, who sat in
Mother Mayberry's large arm-chair, swinging herself and Teether
slowly to and fro, humming happily little vagrant airs that floated
into her brain on the wings of their own melody. Teether's large
blue eyes looked into hers with earnest rapture and his little head
swayed on his slender neck in harmony with her singing.

"Why, Eliza, I'm sure I don't know. Do you think so?" answered Miss
Wingate, as she smiled down into the large eyes raised to hers. The
heart-to-heart communions, which she and Eliza found opportunities
to hold, were a constant source of pleasure to Miss Wingate, and the
child's quaint little personality unfolded itself delightedly in the
sunshine of appreciation from this lady of her adoration.

"Yes'm, I believe I do. Mis' Pratt and Mr. Hoover started it, and
last night Mr. Petway walked home with Aunt Prissy and Maw set two
racking-chairs out on the front porch for 'em. Paw said he was
more'n glad to set in the back yard and smoke his pipe. Maw wouldn't
put Teether to bed, but rocked him in her lap 'cause he might wake
up and disturb 'em. She let me set up with her and Paw and he told
tales on the time he co'ted her. She said hush up, that co'ting was
like mumps and chickenpox and he was about to get a second spell.
Does it make you want a beau too, Miss Elinory?"

"Well," answered Miss Wingate slowly with a candor that would have
been vouched no other soul save the sympathetic Eliza, "it might be
nice."

"I thought you would like one," answered Eliza enthusiastically,