"Yes, I dare. See if I don't." And Poppy took another piece, just to show how brave she was. Silly little Poppy!
"I ain't sick, and I shan't die, so now."
And Poppy pranced about as briskly as ever. But the man shook his head, Nelly watched her anxiously, and Cy kept saying,—
"Ain't you sick yet, say?"
For a little while Poppy felt all right; but presently she grew rather pale, and began to look rather pensive. She stopped running, and walked slower and slower, while her eyes got dizzy, and her hands and feet very cold.
"Ain't you sick now, say?" repeated Cy; and Poppy tried to answer, "Oh, dear! no;" but a dreadful feeling came over her, and she could only shake her head, and hold on to Nelly.
"Better lay down a spell," said the man, looking a little troubled.
"I don't wish to dirty my clean frock," said Poppy faintly, as she glanced over the wide-ploughed field, and longed for a bit of grass to drop on. She kept up bravely for another turn; but suddenly stopped, and, quite regardless of the clean pink gown, dropped down in a furrow, looking so white and queer that Nelly began to cry. Poppy lay a minute, then turned to Cy, and said very solemnly,—
"Cy, run home, and tell my mother I'm dying."
Away rushed Cy in a great fright, and burst upon Poppy's mamma, exclaiming breathlessly,—
"O ma'am! Poppy's been and ate a lot of tobacco, and she's sick, layin' in the field; and she says, 'Come quick, 'cause she's dyin.'"
