Polly looked over.
“Fan”—she began, “why, they haven’t got it right! It isn’t fanfaron at all, the accent is right on the first syllable, and fanfaron doesn’t rhyme a bit! Oh, just you wait!” and she walked quietly away.
Patricia and Leonora followed at a little distance.
Polly went straight to the author of the ditty. There was no distress in her face now. Her eyes were twinkling.
“If I could write as good poetry as you do,” she dimpled, “and I wanted to use uncommon words, I think I’d make sure that the accent was right, and that they rhymed.”
“Wha’ do you mean?” he frowned.
Polly laughed, and ran away.
“There’s only one uncommon word in it,” mused Vance. “I supposed that was—”
“Those girls have been looking in the dictionary,” suggested Amos Rand. “I saw them there a minute ago.”
“I’ll find out!” cried Vance.