Dickie was just as silent in his sister’s presence as usual, his communications being generally in the form of monosyllables. But he was faithful in echoing Willie’s sentiments on any and every occasion—noticeably at chicken time. The little fellows ate the fricassee with appetite, but they refused the nice, rich gravy, in which the cook had put macaroni. Mrs. Steele urged them to take gravy once or twice, and finally Sadie considered that she should come to the rescue.
“What’s the matter with you kids?” she demanded, hoarsely, in an attempt to communicate with them aside. “Ye was glad ’nough to git chicken gravy on Thanksgivin’ at the orphanage—warn’t ye?”
“Yes, I know, Sadie,” returned Willie, wistfully. “But they never left the windpipes in it—did they, Dickie?”
“Nope,” responded Dickie, feelingly, likewise gazing at the macaroni askance.
It set the table in a roar and finally Willie and Dickie were encouraged to try some of the gravy, “windpipes” and all!
“They’re all right,” laughed Busy Izzy, greatly delighted. “They’re one—or two—of the seven wonders of the world——”
“Pooh!” interrupted Heavy, witheringly, “You don’t even know what the seven wonders of the world are.”
“I can tell you one thing they’re not,” grinned Busy Izzy. “They’re not a baseball team, for there’s not enough of them. Now will you be good?”
Madge turned her head suddenly and ran right into Belle Tingley’s elbow, as Belle was reaching up to settle her hair-ribbon.
“Oh, oh! My eye! I believe you poked it out, Belle. You have such sharp elbows,” wailed Madge.