It will be seen that Millie felt free to voice her opinions at all
times in the Reist family. She was a plain-faced, stout little woman of
thirty-five, a product of the Pennsylvania Dutch country. Orphaned at
an early age she had been buffeted about sorely until the happy day she
entered the Reist household. Their kindness to her won her heart and
she repaid them by a staunch devotion. The Reist joys, sorrows,
perplexities and anxieties were shared by her and she naturally came in
for a portion of Aunt Rebecca's faultfinding.
Cross-grained and trying, Rebecca Miller was unlike the majority of the
plain, unpretentious people of that rural community. In all her years
she had failed to appreciate the futility of fuss, the sin of useless
worry, and had never learned the invaluable lesson of minding her own
business. "She means well," Mrs. Reist said in conciliatory tones when
Uncle Amos or the children resented the interference of the dictatorial
relative, but secretly she wondered how Rebecca could be so--so--she
never finished the sentence.
"Well, my goodness, here she comes once!" Amanda heard her aunt's
rasping voice as they entered the house.
Stifling an "Oh yea" the girl walked into the sitting-room.
"Hello, Aunt Rebecca," she said dutifully, then turned to her mother--
"You want me?"
"My goodness, your dress is all wet in the back!" Aunt Rebecca said
shrilly. "What in the world did you do?"
Before she could reply Philip turned about so his wet clothes were on
view. "And you too!" cried the visitor. "My goodness, what was you two
up to? Such wet blotches like you got!" "We were wadin' in the crick,"
Amanda said demurely, as her mother smoothed the tousled red hair back
from the flushed forehead.
"My goodness! Wadin' in the crick in dog days!" exploded Aunt Rebecca.
"Now for that she'll turn into a doggie, ain't, Mom?" said the boy
roguishly.
Aunt Rebecca looked over her steel-rimmed spectacles at the two
children who were bubbling over with laughter. "I think," she said
sternly, "people don't learn children no manners no more."
"Ach," the mother said soothingly, "you mustn't mind them. They get so
full of laughin' even when we don't see what's to laugh at."
"Yes," put in Amanda, "the Bible says it's good to have a merry heart
and me and Phil's got one. You like us that way, don't you, Mom?"