"What?"

"That little girl--did you see her face?"

"Yes, why?"

"It was red as a little strawberry. Oh, she was cute!"

"Why, your own face is almost as red as that already! Everybody's
healthy here. We're out in the cold as soon as we're old enough
to walk. Wonderful climate!"

She looked at him and had to agree. He was mighty
healthy-looking; so was his brother. And she had noticed the new
red in her own cheeks that very morning.

Suddenly their glances were caught and held, and they stared for
a moment at the street-corner ahead of them. A man was standing
there, his knees bent, his eyes gazing upward with a tense
expression as though he were about to make a leap toward the
chilly sky. And then they both exploded into a shout of
laughter, for coming closer they discovered it had been a
ludicrous momentary illusion produced by the extreme bagginess of
the man's trousers.

"Reckon that's one on us," she laughed.

"He must be Southerner, judging by those trousers," suggested
Harry mischievously.