“Whatcha looking at, Almedy?” Marcia came up and asked.

“Turtles,” said Almedy.

Marcia shrank back a little, for it was true. Two mottled turtles could be seen crawling around a mossy log under the acorn tree.

“Don’t you want to come play drop-the-handkerchief?” urged Marcia.

“Naw, I like turtles,” said Almedy, stonily. “I like turtles better’n anything.”

10

THE FINEST FEATURE of life on the farm was the vacation from manners. Voices were never lowered; indeed, a normal tone was regarded as city affectation, and a suspicious attempt at secrecy. You could hear Uncle Louie talking far off in the barn to visitors, and even in the very same room he and Aunt Betts shouted at each other as if they were acres apart. It may have been that this constant noise kept them from being lonesome. At any rate, the shrill nasal pitch maintained indoors and out by the couple and all their neighbors managed to convey hearty good humor, open hearts and solid virtue. Marcia and Lena tried to achieve the same effect in their speech but it evidently took years of training to get your voice to come twanging through your nose that way, and when you tried it your very palate seemed to whirr like a banjo string. A good heart and honesty seemed to be so completely a matter of noise that whenever any deals with the butcher or milk company were under way you could hear the honest fellows half a mile away doing their best to out-shout each other and show how aboveboard the transactions were. Fancy table manners were also suspect, indicating a desire to seem better than ordinary folks. Such airs as “Please pass the butter” were almost insults, and likely to be reprimanded by Uncle Louie saying “What are your arms for?”

Meals were served in the big sunny kitchen on a table spread with green oilcloth, with a flypaper as a centerpiece. Jars of conserve, catsup, piccalilli, coleslaw, pickled beets, and sugar were left on the table all the time, covered between meals by a red-checkered tablecloth. A person could pick up her plate and carry it outdoors to eat on the kitchen stoop if she liked. Almedy never did sit down at table, but took her plate and a chunk of bread out to the springhouse where it was always cool. Like Tiddley Winks, the dog, she did not like to have anyone watch her eat. It was Lena who discovered after judicious investigation that Almedy ate everything, even mashed potatoes, with her fingers.

Food was different here than any place the children had ever been. For breakfast there was oatmeal, mashed potatoes covered with mixed corn and tomatoes, fried ham or sausage and gravy, soda biscuits, and sometimes cornmeal pancakes and apple pie. Aunt Betts worried because the young visitors could not put away all that was placed before them. She said they both looked peaked and needed fattening up, but when they obediently tried to stuff down more they ended up with stomachaches.