“I don’t know; it sounds awfully funny; what do you think?” she asked turning to her parents.
“It is poetical and truthful, but rather too long to be used most of the time,” said the mother.
“It might be saved for coort occasions; Uncle Elk always calls me Michael, he being the only one of me acquaintance that has a true since of the fitness of things. But I would respictfully suggist that the word ‘Sunbeam’ would sarve.”
“It certainly is better than ‘Stubby’,” remarked the father, “but it will be hard to displace the homely original.”
“Mike means well,” said Alvin, “though it is sometimes hard to understand him. Now, Sunbeam, I think you ought to sit on my knee for a little while.”
He reached out his arms to help her across, but she held back.
“I like Mike better.”
“It is rare that ye obsarve so much in one of her tender years,” and the Irish youth said to the child:
“Owing to me careful thraining they’re both purty fair lads, but I warn ye aginst trusting them too far. When ye naad a friend ye will not fail to come to me.”
“Yes, indeedy, ’cause you are a good deal better looking than they——”