“We know what she’s done without your telling us,” said Clover, addressing the bird. “The question is what to do next?”
Jack went back downstairs and found the carriage waiting in hopes of picking up another load. He lost no time in personally picking up the ear-trumpet and returning to his friends.
Then they all proceeded above and bought a table and turned their chairs to the stage, where the attraction just at that moment was a quartette of pretty girls.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Burnett the instant the girls began to sing. “Let’s each tie a card to a mouse and present them to the girls!”
The suggestion found favor and was followed out to the letter. But when the girls were through and the Chinaman who followed them on the programme was also over, the pleasures of life in that spot palled upon the party.
“Oh, come,” said Burnett, “let’s go somewhere else. Let’s go out in the air.”
His suggestion found favor. And they sallied forth and visited another roof garden, a theater where they saw the last quarter of the fourth act, a place where Aunt Mary was given a gondola ride, and a place where she was given something in the shape of light refreshments.
Then, becoming thirsty, they ordered a few White Horses and Red Horses and the Necks of yet other horses, but Aunt Mary declined the horses of all colors and Mitchell upheld her.
“That’s right,” he said, “I’m a great believer in knowing when you’ve had enough, and I’m sure you’ve all had so much too much that I know that I must have had enough and that she’s better off with none at all.”
“I reckon you’re right,” said Clover. “I’ve had enough, surely. I can’t see over my pile of little saucers, and when I can’t see over my pile of little saucers I’m always positive that I’ve had enough.”