The picture of the pretty child was so winsome that Alvin and Chester each held out his hands invitingly, accompanying the gesture with a smile that was meant to be irresistible. The girl hesitated a moment, father and mother watching her, and then made a dive down the slight slope as if she intended to plunge into the lake, but her course led her between Alvin and Chester and into the arms of Mike, who gently lifted her upon his knee.
“What a sinsible young lady ye be! Thus airly do ye admire manly beauty and high moral worth. May I have the honor to touch me lips to yer cheeks, if I promise not to rub off the pink from the same?”
Guessing his meaning, she turned her face sideways, while the others smilingly looked on and listened. Mike had won the good will of the parents by his cheek salute, for they never failed to let it be known that it was against their wishes that any one, no matter who, touched his or her lips to those of the child. Some have advocated the same style for adults, but I fear the plan will never be popular.
“My name is Ruth,” said the little one artlessly; “that is, they sometimes call me that, but it isn’t my right name.”
“What is your right name?”
“Stubby,—I guess papa calls me that because I sometimes stub my toe when I run too fast. Folks that love me call me ‘Stubby.’”
“Then it’s mesilf that shall know ye as ‘Stubby.’ When these young chaps wid me presooms to addriss ye as ‘Ruth,’ have nought to do wid ’em, but come to me who knows how to traat ye respictful. But I’m going to give ye anither name, wid the permission of your father and mither.”
“What’s that?”
“The Sunbeam of Gosling Lake: how do you like it?”
Stubby was puzzled. With the end of her forefinger thrust in the corner of her mouth, she said doubtingly: