| "Oh, we don't believe it all, |
| Yet we must believe a little |
| We b'lieve the water boils |
| When the steam comes from the kittle. |
| "It's dark inside the drum, |
| Yet we hear the drumming well, |
| But that we wished beside the wall |
| We'll never, never tell." |
"Where did you hear those verses?" Valerie asked.
"That's a funny song my brother sings. I made the second verse to fit to-day."
"Why, Betty Chase! Who'd think you could make poetry?" cried Valerie, looking Betty over, as if it were the first time she had ever seen her.
Betty laughed gayly.
"I guess Mrs. Marvin would tell you it wasn't poetry. Don't you remember she told us the other day that many people could write verses, but that verses were not always poetry?"
"Well, all the same, I like the funny verses," Valerie said, "and here we are at the wall again."
"And here's luck to us, and our wishing!" cried Betty.
She sprang up on the wall beside Valerie, and for a moment the two sat thinking.
It was Valerie who first spoke.