"She's Grandma," said Ezekiel, walking over to her and peering around her
side.
"Oh, then she is," cried Rachel, springing around. "Say"--she seized his
jacket--"she's my Gran, an'----"
"Grandma, I said," repeated Ezekiel.
"Yes, yes, Grandma; well, she's mine."
"She's all our Grandma," said Ezekiel decidedly.
"Yes, yes, but she's mine, too," declared Rachel, bobbing her head
decidedly. "She shall be my Gran--Grandma. I shall just take her, so
there!"
"You musn't take her away," said Ezekiel, in alarm.
"I ain't goin' to; I don't want to. I'm goin' to live here always an'
forever," declared Rachel firmly.
Ezekiel smiled at that in great satisfaction, and the matter being settled,
Rachel skipped over to the old lady's chair, and looked steadily down into
the wrinkled face.
"Go out and put the butter-pat somewhere," she said to Peletiah, who still
held it in his hand, waiting to present it.
"I must give it to Grandma," he said; "my mother told me to."
"Well, you can't while she's asleep," said Rachel quickly, "so you put it
somewhere--anywhere--and when she wakes up, why, you can give it to her. Do
hurry--and you go and help him."
So the two boys walked off to find a place in the buttery, and quick as
lightning Rachel leaned over and set a kiss on the wrinkled old cheek. If
Grandma couldn't hear, she was very quick at feeling,
"Why!" She stirred uneasily in her chair, and opened her eyes.
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