“Like the story of the little pickaninny,” put in Van Reypen; “they said he was ill from eating too much watermelon. And a neighbour said, ‘Law sakes! Dey ain’t no such t’ing as too much watermillion!’ and the reply was, ’Den dere wasn’t enough boy!’”
“That’s it exactly,” and Helen smiled; “there aren’t too many kinds of cakes here,—but there isn’t quite enough me!”
But after some careful consideration, she selected the most irresistible dainties, and the others also made their choice.
“You never told us the ‘Eagle’ story,” Herron reminded, as they waited for their order to be served.
“That’s so,” said Patty, “what was it, Helen? Didn’t you say it had to do with the end of the war?”
“That’s as you look at it. Here’s the tale. You see, down at Beverly, just before the close of the Revolution, there appeared a few eagles——”
“Bald?” inquired Phil.
“Dunno if they were bald or long-haired or blonde,—but they were eagles,—real, live American eagles. And they had never been seen in that locality before. Well, their appearance heralded the end of the Revolution,—and immediately it ended.”
“Great!” cried Philip, a little ironically; “it reminds me of the slave who called out, ‘Oh, King live forever!’ and immediately the King lived forever!”
“I shouldn’t wonder if that’s a better story than mine,” laughed Helen, “but I’ll proceed with mine, as, if I don’t, I may not get it done before my cakies come. Well, the Revolution ended, and no eagles were seen any more at all, in or near Beverly. Until,—near the close of the Civil War, those same eagles appeared in Beverly again!”