A door in the distance opened, and a gentleman came out.
“What’s the matter, Mary?” he asked.
“I want to see the President so much,” pleaded Cricket, twisting her fingers in her eagerness. “I know he must be awfully busy, for I suppose presidenting is very hard, and takes lots of time, but won’t you tell him we’ll be very quick? And it’s terribly important.”
The gentleman looked first amused, then interested.
“Come in, my little friends. I am the President, and I will very willingly hear what you have to say, and help you if I can.”
At this announcement, Cricket, finding that she was really in the much desired presence, drew a quick breath, feeling, for the first time, the importance of what she was doing. The two girls, holding each other’s hands tightly, followed their kindly guide to the pleasant library.
“My legs wobble so, I can hardly walk,” whispered Cricket to Eunice, “and there’s such a hole in my stomach! It feels all gone.”
The gentleman placed chairs for his little guests, with the utmost courtesy of manner, and then seated himself.
“Now, what can I do for you?” he asked, pleasantly.
Cricket gripped her fast-retreating courage with both hands, drew a long breath and plunged head foremost in her subject, as one might jump from a burning steamer into the ice-cold ocean.