"I haven't said no, Eli," replied May, as she attempted to put up her hair, and blushing from ear to ear.
"Is it yes, May?" said Eli, with eyes brightening. "I want to know."
May glanced up pensively, with a hairpin between her lips cutting a smile in two.
"Yes," she answered, as the pin fell to the floor, and her hair straggled down again.
"I am happy, May," he replied; "now will you excuse me for my impetuosity?"
May was gathering up her hair again when Eli said this. She turned to him with a smothered laugh, and remarked: "You are all right, Eli; I am happy."
Whereat, both being perfectly agreed as to their feelings and opinions, Eli looked about for his hat, preparatory to taking his departure.
"Well, Lord bless us! Look here, May!" he exclaimed, standing over the youngster, sitting in his hat.
Then, bursting into a loud guffaw, he stooped down, grasped the hat by the side rims, and lifted it up, baby and all, and ventured forth to the throne room. As he lifted the burden up before him, the baby laid hold of his string necktie with one hand and his collar with the other, as a support to his precarious position. In which position Eli, hat, and baby proceeded, Eli singing a foolish ditty, till they arrived at Peter's seat, by the side of whom sat Mrs. Dieman.
Eli stood before them a moment that they might see the load and the oddity of the situation of baby. They laughed; Eli laughed; baby laughed. He swung the hat this way and that, up and down, and bounced him a little. Eli blowed a tune of coo-coo at him, then whistled, and sang snatches of songs, of all of which baby seemed highly appreciative, judging from his looks. Then—the bottom fell out of the hat, and through it, feet foremost, shot the baby like a stone, and fell in a squalling bundle on the floor at Eli's feet.