“But, Ben,” expostulated Posey, “I’m sure there’s enough for us both in the basket.”
“That will do for lunch this afternoon. I tell you, the afternoons are pretty long.”
“But you know,” and Posey hesitated over the words, “we will have to pay if we eat here, and I haven’t any money.”
“Ho!” scoffed Ben. “I guess when I ask a young lady to take a ride with me I can get her a bite to eat; that’s the proper thing to do. Besides, I never took a girl riding before, that is, except my cousins, and I want to do it up swell. Why, lots of the boys I know are always asking the girls to go somewhere, though what they can find to say to each other is more than I can imagine. And Fred Flood, only a year older’n I am, has been engaged. He was engaged to Millie Grey for two weeks, then they quarreled out, he burned all her letters in the back yard, and they haven’t spoken to each other since.
“I s’pose, though,” Ben’s tone was reflective, “I shall come to it some day; write notes to the girls, and go after ’em in my best clothes an’ with a choke collar, as Cousin George does. But I guess it will be some time first,” and Ben laughed.
“It must make one feel real grown-up-like, though, to have a written invitation,” remarked Posey. “I had a letter from a boy once,” the dimples in her cheeks showing at the recollection.
“What was in it?”
“Oh, there was a shield made with red and blue crayons, and ‘U. S.’ in big letters at the top and bottom of the paper; then it said,
“‘Dear Posey,
‘If you love me,