cheerfully, at the end, 'How do you do?' Don't you see the difference,
Eben?--so of course I know she must be a great deal better."

"I swan!" replied Eben Loomis, simply. "'How do you _do_?' '_How_ do
you do?' so that's the way you find out things, is it, Mel'dy? Well,
you're a curus child, that's what's the matter with you.--Where d'you
say you was goin'?" he added, after a pause.

"I didn't say," said Melody. "But I'm going to Mrs. Jackson's, to see
Neddy."

"Want to know," said her companion. "Goin'--Hevin' some kind o'
trouble with his eyes, ain't he?" He stopped short, with a glance at
the child's clear eyes. It was impossible not to expect to find some
answering look in them.

"They thought he was going blind," said Melody; "but it is all right
now. I do wish people wouldn't tell Mrs. Jackson to keep putting
things in his eyes. Why can't they let her do what the doctor tells
her, and not keep wanting her to try all kinds of nonsense?"

"Wal, that's so," assented Eben,--"that's so, every time. I was down
there a spell back, and I says, 'Phoebe,' I says, 'don't you do a
thing folks tells you,' says I. 'Dr. Brown knows what he's about, and
don't you do a thing but what he says, unless it's jest to wet his
eyes up with a drop o' tobacco-juice,' says I. 'There's nothin' like
tobacco-juice for weakly eyes, that's sure;' and of course I knew
Doctor would ha' said so himself ef he'd ha' been there. Wal, here we
be to Jackson's now," added the good man, pulling up his horse. "Hold
on a minute, and I'll help ye down. Wal, there!" as Melody sprang