"She said she was goin' to send you over a dish of her honey." "I don't want any of her honey.

I don't see what folks want to send things in to me, as if I were sick, for." "Oh, I guess she thought I'd like some too," returned her mother, with a kind of stiff playfulness.

"You needn't think you're goin' to have all that honey." "I don't want any of it," said Lois.

The window beside which she sat was open; under it, in the back yard, was a little thicket of mint, and some long sprays of sweetbrier bowing over it.

Lois reached out and broke off a piece of the sweetbrier and smelled it.
"Supper's ready," said her mother, presently; and she took off her hat and went listlessly over to the table.
The table, covered with a white cloth, was set back against the wall, with only one leaf spread.