She must have asked me most a hundred questions.

What all our names were, how old we were, if our girls had lots of beaus, and if there were many men in the neighbourhood, and dozens of things my mother never asked any one.

She always inquired if people were well, if their crops were growing, how much fruit they had, and how near their quilts were finished.
I told her all about Sally and the wedding, because no one cared who knew it, after I had been pounded to mince-meat for telling.

She asked if Shelley had any beaus, and I said there wasn't any one who came like Peter, but every man in the neighbourhood wanted to be her beau.

Then she asked about Laddie, and I was taking no risks, so I said: "I only see him at home.