“But of course he’ll have to go some day,” said Mollie. “Still, all the same, I couldn’t bear to see the butcher carrying him off to kill him,” she continued, quickly.
“Me, either.”
“Me, either.”
“Me, eder,” they all chimed in.
At last the list was finished, and Mr. Smith’s five shillings was entered “from a kind, unknown friend,” and the next step was the presentation.
“You’re the boss of the show, Eileen; you give it,” said Willie, “and you’ll have to make the speech, too.”
“Oh, dear, I don’t know whatever to say!” said Eileen, nervously.
“Go on, there’s nothing to be frightened of,” said Willie, bravely. “You’ll have to think of something. You always say you’re goin’ on the stage: this will be practice. Go on, let’s hear you before you go on the stage,” and he stuck his two thumbs in his leather belt and marched round the room.
“Oh, dear! I suppose I’ll have to say something,” said Eileen. “Let’s see, now,” and she walked round and round and rehearsed speech after speech.
“How’ll we give her the money?” asked Willie, all of a sudden.