| “There was a girl in Central High And she was wondrous wise, When she wasn’t rigging thunderstorms She was making strawberry pies! |
“Gee, Laura! those tarts smell delicious! Do give a feller one?”
Black Jinny, the Belding’s cook, chuckled inordinately—as she always did whenever Bobby Hargrew showed her face at the Belding’s kitchen window, and shuffled two of the still warm dainties onto a plate and passed them with a fork to the visitor.
“Now, Jinny, you’ll spoil the count. And Bobby’s getting in in advance of the other girls. These are for my party to-morrow afternoon,” complained Laura, but with a smile for the smaller girl.
“Party! Yum, yum!” said Bobby, with her mouth full. “I just love parties, Laura. ’Specially your kind. You always have something good to eat.”
“But you’ll eat your share of the tarts now.”
“I am no South American or Cuban. There is no ‘manana.’ To-morrow never comes. ‘Make hay while the sun shines.’ ‘Never put off until to-morrow,’ and so forth. Oh, I’m full of old saws.”
“I’m glad,” said Laura. “Then there will not be so much of you to fill up with goodies.”
“But it’s my mind that’s full of saws—not my ‘tummy.’”
“Same thing, I believe, in your case,” declared Laura, laughing. “Jinny says the way to the boys’ hearts is through their stomachs; and I think your mind has a very close connection with your digestive apparatus.”