At these words the load that was on Pomona's mind dropped from it entirely.
"Now, sir," said she, "we've got another thing to say; and it will seem queer to you after what we've said already. We do want to go into fiction, but not the way we was in it before. The fact is that between us we've written a story, and we've brought it with us, hoping you wouldn't mind letting Jone read it to you. Of course we was expecting to read it to only two; but as we've got to go back to-day, if the rest of the folks don't mind, Jone can read it anyway."
"I should like it above all things!" exclaimed the Next Neighbor.
"We will not let you go away until it is read," said the Mistress of the House.
"Oh, I do want to hear it!" cried the Daughter of the House.
"Of course Jonas must read it," was Euphemia's quiet comment.
"Heave ahead!" called out the Master of the House.
Pomona smiled gratefully. "It isn't a very long story, but we've been a long time working at it, and we wouldn't think of such a thing as calling it finished until our friends has heard it."
The quiet and good-natured Jonas now drew a manuscript from his pocket and began.
"The name of my story," said he, "is 'The Foreign Prince and the Hermit's Daughter.'"