BY MRS. H. G. ROWE.
“NOW, Ef May, you go right straight back home! Lotty an’ I want a little time to ourselves without a little snip like you taggin’ after, an’ listenin’ to every word we say; so you go right straight back this minute!”
Little Effie Maylie Marsh (called “Ef May” for short) turned her round blue eyes for a moment full upon her sister, and then, without word or sign, trotted composedly along in that sister’s wake, serenely oblivious of the fact that she was the one too many in the little party that had started, joyful at the prospect of a whole afternoon’s confidential chat, for the blackberry patch over the hill, when poor Ef May as usual intruded her roly-poly presence just when she was least wanted.
“Did Mother know that you came?”
Sister Anne looked and spoke with all the dignity that her twelve years was capable of, but the intruder never flinched.
“Yes, she did. I said lemme go pick blackberry with the other girls, an’ she said”—
“What?”
“Yes, if they don’t project.”
Both girls laughed, for Ef May was famous for her conversational blunders, and good-natured Lotty whispered under the shelter of her sunbonnet: