CHAPTER IX—CALLERS
“Randy, wake up!”
“Yes, oh yes, in a minute,” Randy answered, drowsily.
“No, now, Randy, wake up now! I want to talk about those tab things what we had last night,” and two little soft arms wound their way about sleepy Randy’s neck.
Randy rubbed her eyes, laughing as she said, “Do call them tableaux, Prue, can’t you remember that? Tableaux, Prue, say so.”
“Tabby-lows!” shouted Prue. “How’s that?”
“Better,” said Randy, still laughing.
“Well, whatever you call ’em, yours was the prettiest, Randy dear, the very prettiest, and Jotham said so, too, so of course it’s true,” said little Prue, who had been sitting up in bed in order to see her sister’s face when she repeated the compliment.
“Now, Prue,” said Randy, “did he say that because you asked him?”
“Why, no,” said the child, whose smiling face now assumed an injured expression. “He didn’t say it to me ’tall. He said it to his mother; I heard him, and she said she thought so, too, I heard her; she sat just behind us. Now, Randy Weston, I thought it was real nice to tell you, and that’s what I waked you up for.”