They might think it wasn't respectful." "He's looking this way," said Davy, who had stood up for a better view, but squatted down again at Betty's command.
[Illustration: "OH, RUN AND GET IT, QUICK, DAVY,' SHE CRIED."] It was too late.

Jake had recognised Davy's shock of yellow hair, and called out, good-naturedly, "Hello, stickin'-plaster, where's Betty?
Somewhere around here, I'll bet anything, or you wouldn't be here.
I've got a letter for her." At that, Betty leaned so far out of the window that she nearly lost her balance and toppled over.

"Oh, run and get it, quick, Davy," she cried.
The little bare feet twinkled through the grass to meet the old sorrel horse, and two brown hands were held up to receive the letter; but Jake preferred to deliver the important document himself.
"Here you are," he said, riding alongside the window and dropping the letter into her eager hands.
"Oh, _thank_ you, Jake," she cried.

"It makes me feel as if Christmas was coming.

I never got a letter in my life except in my Christmas boxes.