With her precious Shakespeare book clasped tightly in her arm, Marjorie ran home to luncheon.
“Oh, Miss Larkin,” she exclaimed, as they all sat at table, “did you ever read Shakespeare’s ‘Julius Cæsar’?”
“Not all of it,” said Miss Larkin. “I don’t care much for his historical plays. I think they’re heavy and uninteresting.”
“Oh, do you? Why, I don’t see how anything could be more interesting than ‘Julius Cæsar.’ I’m going to read it right straight through this afternoon.”
“Me, too,” said King. “Let me read with you, Midgie, won’t you?”
“Me, too,” said Rosy Posy; “me wead wiv Middy, too.”
“Count me out,” said Kitty. “I’m going over to Dorothy’s this afternoon.”
And so, as baby Rosamond’s request was not taken seriously, King and Marjorie settled themselves comfortably on the big divan in the living-room, to enjoy their new-found treasure.
“Whew! it’s great stuff, isn’t it, Midget?” cried King, as they read rapidly on, skipping what they couldn’t understand, but getting the gist of the plot.
“Fine!” agreed Marjorie, as, with shining eyes and tumbled hair, she galloped through the printed pages. “But what a shame to stab poor old Cæsar just because it was the fifteenth of March!”