"Growing girls are all that way about things to put on," mumbled Miss
Munson, the corner of her mouth full of pins. "I know _I_ had all
sorts o' high an' mighty ideas. I fell in love with a widower old
enough to be my grandfather. And I was--stand a little to the right,
please. There, that is all right. Quit wiggling. I was such a fool
about him, and showed it so plain that it turned the old scamp's head.
He actually called to see me one night. Oh, it was exciting! Father
took down his shotgun from the rack over the fireplace and ordered him
off the place. Then he spanked me--father spanked me good and sound
and made me go to bed. You may say what you please, but that sort o'
medicine will certainly cure a certain brand o' love. It did more to
convince me that I was not grown than anything else had ever done.
From that day on I hated the sight of that man. All at once he looked
to me as old as Santa Claus. I had a sort of smarting feeling every
time I thought of him, and he did look ridiculous that night as he
broke an' run across the yard with two of our dogs after him."

"Oh, _isn't_ it lovely?" Dolly was now before the looking-glass,
bending right and left, stepping back and then forward, fluffing out
her rich hair, her cheeks flushed, her eyes gleaming with delight.

"I wish you could just stand off and take a good look at yourself,
Dolly," Mrs. Drake cried, enthusiastically. "I simply don't know what
to compare you to. Where you got your good looks I can't imagine. But
mother used to say that _her_ mother in Virginia come of a long line
of noted beauties. Our folks away back, Miss Stella, as maybe you
know, had fine blood in 'em."

"It certainly crops out in Dolly," Miss Munson declared. "I've heard