"Who kill-a dem ducks?" says she.

I p'inted to the reverend. "He did," says I. And then I cal'late I must
have had one of them things they call an inspiration. "And he's willing
to pay for 'em," I says.

"Pay thirty-five dolla?" says she.

"You bet!" says I.

But I'd forgot Clarissa. She rose up in that waterlogged cart like a
Statue of Liberty. "Never!" says she. "We will never submit to such
extortion. We'll drown first!"

Becky heard her. She didn't look disapp'inted nor nothing. Just turned
and begun to walk up the beach. "ALL right," says she; "GOO'-by."

The Todds stood it for a jiffy. Then James give in. "I'll pay it!" he
hollers. "I'll pay it!"

Even then Becky didn't smile. She just come about again and walked back
to the shore. Then she took up that tin pan and one of the potaters we'd
jounced out of the cart.

"Hi, Rosa!" she hollers. That mare turned her head and looked. And, for
the first time sence she hove anchor on that flat, the critter unfurled
her ears and histed 'em to the masthead.

"Hi, Rosa!" says Becky again, and begun to pound the pan with the