"Wouldn't do for me to be 'fraid of no dogs." The girl half turned away, but her eye caught the basket.
"What's that you came to sell ?" she said.
"Sell?
I don't come to sell.

Father and mother sent this here.

It's butter, and chickuns, and pork, and cream, and eggs." "Oh!" cried the girl joyously, "my mother will be so--" She stopped short, remembering sundry lessons she had received, and the tears came up into her eyes as she felt that she must be proud and not show her delight at the receipt of homely delicacies to which they were strangers.
"Take your basket to the side door, and deliver your message to Keziah," she said distantly.
"Yes, miss," said Ram, beginning to whistle, as he strode along with his basket, but he turned back directly and followed the girl.
"I say, Miss Celia," he cried.
"Yes, Ram." "You like Grip, don't you ?" "Yes, of course." "Then I won't never kick him, miss.

Only I arn't fond on him.

Here, mate," he continued, dropping on one knee, "give us your paw." The dog, a sturdy-looking deerhound, growled, and closed up to his mistress.
"D'ye hear?
Give's your paw.