"Why"--Amanda's lips trembled--"ain't he mean! I just wanted to be nice
to him and he got mad."
"Don't mind him," soothed the mother. "Boys are funny. He's not mad at
you, he just don't like too much fuss made over what he done. But all
the time he's tickled all over to have you call him a hero."
"Oh--are boys like that? Phil's not. But he ain't a knight. I guess
knights like to pretend they're very modest even if they're full of
pride." Mrs. Landis was too busy putting blackberries into the jars to
catch the import of the child's words. The word knight escaped her
hearing.
"Well, I must go now," said the small visitor. "I'll come again."
"All right, do, Amanda."
She put the baby in its coach, took up the empty basket, and after
numerous good-byes to the children went down the road to her home. The
rhubarb parasol gone, the sun beat upon her uncovered head but she was
unmindful of the intense heat. Her brain was wholly occupied with
thoughts of Martin Landis and his strange behavior.
"Umph," she decided finally, "men _are_ funny things! I'm just
findin' it out. And I guess knights are queerer'n others yet! Wonder if
Millie kept my half-moon pie or if Phil sneaked it. Abody's just got to
watch out for these men folks!"