maid-of-all-work, adored him to the point of letting him make
candy on the kitchen stove--probably the greatest expression of
affection possible to the kitchen; in fact, little Elizabeth
Ferguson was the only person in his world who did not knuckle
down to this pleasant and lovable child. But then, Elizabeth
never knuckled down to anybody! Certainly not to kind old Cherry-
pie, whose timid upper lip quivered like a rabbit's when she was
obliged to repeat to her darling some new rule of Robert
Ferguson's for his niece's upbringing; nor did she knuckle down
to her uncle;--she even declared she was not at all afraid of
him! This was almost unbelievable to the others, who scattered
like robins if they heard his step. And she had greater courage
than this; she had, in fact, audacity! for she said she was
willing--this the others told each other in awed tones--she said
she had "just as lieves" walk right up and speak to Mrs. Maitland
herself, and ask her for twenty cents so she could treat the
whole crowd to ice-cream! That is, she would just as lieves,
_if she should happen to want to_. Now, as she sat in the
apple-tree swinging her legs and sharing her taffy, it occurred
to her to mention, apropos of nothing, her opinion of Mrs.
Maitland's looks:

"I like Blair's mother best; but David's mother is prettier than
Blair's mother."

"It isn't polite to brag on mothers," said David, surveying his
new trousers complacently, "but I know what I think."

Blair, jouncing up and down on his branch, agreed with unoffended
candor. "'Course she's prettier. Anybody is. Mother's ugly."