“What are killyloo birds?” demanded Flossie, hearing something new.
“Well now! don’t you have them here?” asked Helen, smiling broadly.
“Never heard of them. And I’ve been to Bronx Park and seen all the birds in the flying cage,” said Flossie. “Our Nature teacher takes us out there frequently. It’s a dreadful bore.”
“Well, I didn’t know but you might have ’em East here,” observed Helen, pushing along the time-worn cowboy joke. “I said they was scurce around the ranch; and they be. I never saw one.”
“Really!” ejaculated Hortense. “What are killyloo birds good for?”
“Why, near as I ever heard,” replied Helen, chuckling, “they are mostly used for making folks ask questions.”
“I declare!” snapped Belle. “She is laughing at you, girls. You’re very dense, I’m sure, Hortense.”
“Say! that’s a good one!” laughed Flossie. But Hortense muttered:
“Vulgar little thing!”
Helen smiled tranquilly upon them. Nothing they said to her could shake her calm. And once in a while—as in the case above—she “got back” at them. She kept consistently to her rude way of speaking; but she used the tableware with little awkwardness, and Belle said to Hortense: