Then she established her in the big rocking-chair in the kitchen with a plate of appetizing things to eat, and went on with her washing, punctuating every rub with a question.
Elizabeth felt better after her meal, and offered to help, but the grandmother would not hear to her lifting a finger.
"You must rest first," she said.

"It beats me how you ever got here.

I'd sooner crawl on me hands and knees than ride a great, scary horse." Elizabeth sprang to her feet.
"The horse!" she said.

"Poor fellow! He needs something to eat worse than I did.

He hasn't had a bite of grass all this morning.