`` Except in stories Indian girls are called squaws , '' remarked practical Dan , tying his mayflowers together in one huge , solid , cabbage-like bunch . Not for Dan the bother of filling his basket with the loose sprays , mingled with feathery elephant 's - ears and trails of creeping spruce , as the rest of us , following the Story Girl 's example , did . Nor would he admit that ours looked any better than his . `` I like things of one kind together . I do n't like them mixed , '' he said . `` You have no taste , '' said Felicity . `` Except in my mouth , best beloved , '' responded Dan . `` You do think you are so smart , '' retorted Felicity , flushing with anger . `` Do n't quarrel this lovely day , '' implored Cecily . `` Nobody 's quarrelling , Sis . I ai n't a bit mad . It 's Felicity . What on earth is that at the bottom of your basket , Cecily ? '' `` It 's a History of the Reformation in France , '' confessed poor Cecily , `` by a man named D-a-u-b-i-g-n-y . I ca n't pronounce it . I heard Mr. Marwood saying it was a book everyone ought to read , so I began it last Sunday . I brought it along today to read when I got tired picking flowers . I 'd ever so much rather have brought Ester Reid . There 's so much in the history I ca n't understand , and it is so dreadful to read of people being burned to death . But I felt I OUGHT to read it . ''
`` Do you really XXXXX your mind has improved any ? ''
admit brought confessed felt flushing implored named picking remarked think