(I d' 'no' 's she's had one for twenty!" he added in parenthesis; "_I_ never seed her with one to my knowledge.) Wal, the gals was pesterin' her, an' sayin' she didn't look fit to go to meetin' in the old bunnit, so 't last she giv' way, and went an' bought a new one.

'Twas one o' these newfangled shapes.

What was it Lizy called it?
Somethin' Chinese, I reckon.

Fan Song! That was it!" "Fanchon, wasn't it, perhaps ?" asked Hilda, much amused.
"That's what I said, warn't it ?" said the farmer.

"Fan Song, Fan Chong,--wal, what's the odds?
'Twas a queer lookin' thing, anyhow, I sh'd think, even afore it-- Wal, I'm comin' to that.