"Somehow it sounds better when it's sung," Betty said, wonderingly. The poem was not quite up to her expectations, but Lois' enthusiasm banished all doubts.
"I think it's great, and I know the others will too. Isn't it a relief to have it finished? All my poster needs now is the printing, and Maud's promised to do it for me in Old English Script."
"Fine, but put your things away, and let's go over to Fannie's room. Those cakes call." Betty smacked her lips in anticipation as she helped Lois collect her materials.
Fanny was singing as they entered Junior Mansions. It was an old Negro melody, and the crooning notes were soft and beautiful.
"Why I didn't know Fanny could sing," Polly exclaimed in surprise, and the rest stopped to listen.
"'Swing low, sweet chariot— I'se comin' for to carry you home'"—
The music ended abruptly, and they heard the rattle of the cups.
"Why didn't you ever tell us you had a beautiful voice?" demanded Betty between cookies, a few minutes later. "You ought to be studying."
"The very idea!" Fanny laughed in reply.
"Hasn't anybody ever told you you had before?" Lois asked wonderingly. But Fanny shook her head.