“I don’t think so,” said Patty, doubtfully; “I had pretty hard work to grind that out. I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s very waggish,” said Snippy, in such a matter-of-fact tone that the others had to laugh.
“Now that’s real praise, Mrs. Snippy,” said Peter Homer.
As Flo’s governess objected to her own name, and preferred the funny title Flo had given her long ago, the other young people compromised by prefixing a Mrs., which seemed, at least, a little more respectful. They had all grown to like the strong-willed and dictatorial old lady, and her approval of the fun of the Roman Punch pleased them.
“Now,” said Peter, “we come to the last contribution. It is the work of the distinguished Englishman, Cadwalader Oram, better known as Caddy. Indeed, he’s so fond of afternoon tea, I might call him Tea-Caddy. Well, as he hadn’t quite finished his immortal Limerick verse when the bell rang, we’ll call it a missing-line contest, and we’ll all have a try at it. Have you a prize, Patty, that can be given to the successful one?”
“That’s the beauty of Rome,” said Patty. “You do nothing but collect articles that are just right for prizes. I’ll have enough to last me all the winter for card-parties and such things at home. Here, I’ll give you this little model of the Temple of Saturn, in Parian marble.”
“Pooh, we’ve all got those already,” said Violet, “and anyway, they break if you look at them.”
“You must give softer glances, then,” said Austin. “But, Patty, something a little less ubiquitous would suit me better too.”
“Well, here’s a little silver statuette of St. Peter,” said Patty. “How’s that?”
“A whole lot better! I’ll try hard to win that.”