“Missus caught me pokin’ ‘er in the pantry t’other day. Had ‘er up on a shelf, squealing like a shoat,” he said looking proud of himself. ...��Ain’t sure who popped ‘er cherry, probably m’oldest, but she’s ready t’ride.”“Jus’ another frisker then? Won’t be the first you’ve had here.”“Cept she’s kin,” he said mournfully. He called the girl over, introduced her as Jean and had her sit beside me, arms folded across her prow.“I ain’ gonna roger ‘im,” she said, pouting.“Did I ast y’to?” said the. We three sat at the tablein the kitchen. Mother directed the boys on how to prepare everything. Wejust sat and chatted away like a trio of chickadees. Mother had us bothfashion our dresses with the boys looking over their shoulders runningaround the kitchen trying to figure out why Mother was making them do allthe work. It's winter, people. Farm boys don't do a whole lot of choresall day long in the winter. I think she just wanted to teach them alesson about the ball."Gentlemen," she said.. More

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