"Do any of you play?" inquired Amanda's aunt, looking toward the odd little piano.
"Blue Bonnet does," Kitty announced promptly. "Come, 'little Tommy Tucker must sing for his supper.'"
Blue Bonnet went over to the piano. Kitty's remark served as a reminder. She was glad to repay Amanda's aunt for some of her kindness.
The piano was sadly out of tune, but it is doubtful if Amanda's relatives would have enjoyed a symphony concert as much as Blue Bonnet's simple ballads—the familiar little airs which she gave unsparingly.
After she had quite exhausted her stock, there were clamors for repetition, until Blue Bonnet felt that she had wiped out the debt of the entire "We Are Sevens."
Amanda's aunt was found to be quite reasonable about transferring the bed from the back room. Amanda and the small son of the household undertook its removal, Kitty giving orders.
"Anybody would think you were going to sleep in it, Kitty, you're so particular," Amanda objected. "Get busy and help some."
"I spoke for the big bed," Kitty reminded.
"Yes, and it was selfish of you. We're going to draw for the big bed. I told you that before."
There was a shout of laughter a minute later when Kitty pulled the short slip for the bed on the floor.