"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!"




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