COUSIN JOE had been sitting half asleep over a book in the library, when all at once the door opened just a little and a row of eyes peeped in at him, the eyes beginning somewhere near the top of the door and ending pretty close to the bottom. There were just five of these eyes; the one nearest the top being large and of a lovely soft brown color, the next one gray, the next one brown, the next blue, and the last one away down towards the bottom, a mischievous brown.
“Peep!” said a voice, which matched the mischievous brown eye, and a fat little hand was thrust in through the crack.
“May we come in?” asked a soft voice, which sounded near the top of the door.
“Certainly,” said Joe, shutting his book and trying to look as though he had not been half asleep over it. The door opened, and the cousins marched in. First came Bryant, a chubby five-year-old, with sturdy legs, a large head, yellow hair and brown eyes full of mischief, next to him Leefee, seven years old, slight of figure, a little lady with light hair and sky-blue eyes; then Adale, ten years old, her brown hair flying and her brown eyes dancing; after her Maud, only fourteen, but quite a young lady for all that, with serious gray eyes, and last of all, Cora, a slender young woman of seventeen with soft brown hair and eyes.
“Ladies and gentleman,” said cousin Joe, when they all stood before him, “to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“Your Royal Highness,” replied Maud, who had read one of Sir Walter Scott’s novels, “we have a humble petition to present, in which—”
“My top’s broked,” interrupted Bryant, suddenly.
“And we want you to tell us a story,” said Adale with eagerness.
“Have you learned your lessons, Adale?” asked cousin Joe, very solemnly.