"You seem to get a good deal of fun out of this kind of weather," observed
Lige, as he wiped his brow and shifted his chair out of the sun.
"I expect you don't get such skies as this up in Rouen," said the judge,
looking at the girl from between half-closed eyelids.
"It's the same Indiana sky, I think," she answered.
"I guess maybe in the city you don't see as much of it, or think as much
about it. Yes, they're the Indiana skies," the old man went on.
Skies as blue
As the eyes of children when they smile at you.'
"There aren't any others anywhere that ever seemed much like them to me.
They've been company for me all my life. I don't think there are any
others half as beautiful, and I know there aren't any as sociable. They
were always so." He sighed gently, and Miss Sherwood fancied his wife must
have found the Indiana skies as lovely as he had, in the days of long ago.
"Seems to me they _are_ the softest and bluest and kindest in the world."
"I think they are," said Helen, "and they are more beautiful than the
'Italian skies,' though I doubt if many of us Hoosiers realize it; and--
certainly no one else does."
The old man leaned over and patted her hand. Harkless gasped. "'Us
Hoosiers!'" chuckled the judge. "You're a great Hoosier, young lady! How
much of your life have you spent in the State? 'Us Hoosiers!'"
"But I'm going to be a good one," she answered, gaily, "and if I'm good
enough, when I grow up maybe I'll be a great one.
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