“There! I knew he would,” said Eunice, resignedly.
Will took up the strain:
“And who next bitter almonds sought,
And poured in extract by the quart?
Eunice.”
“Be still, you wretch!” cried Eunice, attacking him in the rear with a cushion.
“Come on, if you want to fight,” said Will. “It’s Archie’s turn, now.”
“Who added essence without stint,
The wintergreen and peppermint?
Our Cricket, oh!”