"Oh, I suppose Fay Wingate carried it all off on her feet," returned Janet with an air of innocence.
Juliet frowned. "No base insinuations, if you please. What's in that jar? Candied ginger, as I live. Much better than mustard. Bring it here, Fay."
And Janet had the mortification of seeing her treasured ginger gobbled up before her eyes.
"Having refreshed ourselves through your generosity," remarked Juliet, "we will provide a little entertainment for the assembled company. First on the programme is Miss Charity Shepherd, who will give us an example of Yankee dialect. Miss Shepherd is remarkably clever in having preserved the exact intonation, and pronunciation, as you will presently hear. Step out, Miss Shepherd, and don't be afraid."
As Charity's accent was unmistakable, every one tittered.
Juliet selected a slip from several she held in her hand. "You are requested to give this selection, Miss Shepherd," she said, handing the paper to Charity. "Stand up if you please, and speak out clearly."
Deciding that discretion would be the better part of valor, Charity amiably complied, and read as follows, exactly as Juliet had foreseen that she would: "Take your caad and go to the caa where you will find the staatah whom you will know by the staa he wears. He will tell you the way to Haavahd. If there is doo on the grass, do not go that way, but consider it your dooty to take the other path to the institootion."
"Lovely," exclaimed Juliet as a titter ran around the room. "You may sit down, Miss Shepherd, and we will next hear from the lady from Philadelphia." She looked toward another of the girls who bit her lip, but did not respond. "You are from Philadelphia, aren't you, Miss Cox?" asked Juliet suavely.
"Yes," was the answer.
"And you live somewhere near North Broad Street, don't you?"