"Oh, Randy Paine," she said, with her cheeks flaming, "when did you get
back?"

"Ten minutes ago. Mary, if you'll hand me that corking kid, I'll kiss
her."

Fiddle was handed over. She was rosy and round with her mother's blue
eyes. She wore a little buttoned hat of white piqué, with strings tied
under her chin.

"So," said Randy, after a moist kiss, "you are Fiddle-dee-dee?"

"Ess----"

"Who gave you that name?"

"It is her own way of saying Fidelity," Mary explained.

"Isn't she rather young to say anything?"

"Oh, Randy, she's a year and a half," Becky protested. "Your mother
says that you talked in your cradle."

Randy laughed, "Oh, if you listen to Mother----"

"I'm glad you're in time for the Horse Show," Mr. Flippin interposed,
"I've got a couple of prize hawgs--an' when you see them, you'll say
they ain't anything like them on the other side."

"Oh, Father----"