"Aunt Fanny," she announced, after looking darkly through her window
into the mountains above, "if you can't brush my hair--ouch!--any easier
than this, I'll have someone else do it, that's all. You're a regular
old bear."
"Po' lil' honey," was all the complacent "bear" said in reply, without
altering her methods in the least.
"Well," said Beverly threateningly, with a shake of her head, "be
careful, that's all. Have you heard the news?"
"Wha' news, Miss Bev'ly?"
"We're going back to Washin'ton."
"Thank de Lawd! When?"
"I don't know. I've just this instant made up my mind. I think we'll
start--let's see: this is the sixth of August, isn't it? Well, look and
see, if you don't know, stupid. The tenth? My goodness, where has the
time gone, anyway? Well? we'll start sometime between the eleventh and
the twelfth."
"Of dis monf, Miss Bev'ly?"
"No; September. I want you to look up a timetable for me to-day. We must
see about the trains."
"Dey's on'y one leavin' heah daily, an' hit goes at six in de
mo'nin'. One train a day! Ain' 'at scan'lous?"
"I'm sure, Aunt Fanny, it is their business--not ours," said Beverly
severely.
"P'raps dey mought be runnin' a excuhsion 'roun' 'baout Septembeh, Miss
Bev'ly," speculated Aunt Fanny consolingly. "Dey gen'ly has 'em in
Septembeh."
"You old goose," cried Beverly, in spite of herself.
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