human
Lila, he asked as he looked at the greening grass of spring,
gpt
he burst out,
human
And say, Lila--why, this morning when I was out there all alone I just sang at the top of my voice, I felt so bang-up dandy--and--I tell you something--honest, I kept thinking of you all the time--you and the hills and a dove's eyes. It just tasted good way down in me--you ever feel that way?
gpt
But honest, Lila--don't you ever feel that way--kind of creepy with good feeling--tickledy and crawly, as though you'd swallowed a candy caterpillar and was letting it go down slow--slow, slow, to get every bit of it--say, honest, don't you? I do. It's just fine--out on the prairie all alone with big bursting thoughts bumping you all the time--gee!
human
Of course, Kenyon, she answered finally.
gpt
Girls are--oh, different, I guess. I dream things like that, and sometimes mornings when I'm wiping dishes I think 'em--and drop dishes--and whoopee! But I don't know--girls are not so woozy and slazy inside them as boys. Kenyon, let me tell you something: Girls pretend to be and aren't--not half; and boys pretend they aren't and are--lots more.