That was
encouraging.
And then John asked Cynthia if she had seen Sally Hawkes since the
husking at their house, when Sally found so many red ears; and didn't
she think she was a real pretty girl.
"Yes, she was right pretty;" and Cynthia guessed that Sally knew it
pretty well. But did John like the color of her eyes?
No; John didn't like the color of her eyes exactly.
"Her mouth would be well enough if she did n't laugh so much and show
her teeth."
John said her mouth was her worst feature.
"Oh, no," said Cynthia warmly; "her mouth is better than her nose."
John did n't know but it was better than her nose, and he should like
her looks better if her hair was n't so dreadful black.
But Cynthia, who could afford to be generous now, said she liked
black hair, and she wished hers was dark. Whereupon John protested
that he liked light hair--auburn hair--of all things.
And Cynthia said that Sally was a dear, good girl, and she did n't
believe one word of the story that she only really found one red ear
at the husking that night, and hid that and kept pulling it out as if
it were a new one.
And so the conversation, once started, went on as briskly as
possible about the paring-bee, and the spelling-school, and the new
singing-master who was coming, and how Jack Thompson had gone to
Northampton to be a clerk in a store, and how Elvira Reddington, in
the geography class at school, was asked what was the capital of
Massachusetts, and had answered "Northampton," and all the school
laughed.
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