“Yes, sir.”
“The same that sent us three poems a while ago?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you wrote that song we heard to-night?”
“Yes, sir.” Aladdin was now fiery red.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’ve just finished school,” said Aladdin. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“Newspaper work appeal to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Timid as a coot,” thought Mr. Blankinship.