“Oh, my!” murmured Dot. “You know he’s just got over the scarlet fever.”
“But he hasn’t got over being a nuisance,” declared the older girl.
“I didn’t mean that Sammy was really here—to look at,” explained the serious Tess. “I meant—I meant——”
“Well, what did you mean?” asked Agnes, who was inclined to be impatient.
“She meant, ‘consider Sammy,’ didn’t you, Tessie?” suggested Ruth, kindly.
“Why—yes.”
“Oh! Were you taking him for an example?” cried Agnes. “But Sammy hasn’t ever been boiled—although maybe he ought to have been.”
“No; he hasn’t been boiled,” said the serious Tess, still watching the eggs bobbing in the boiling water. “But he’s punished lots of times—at school, I mean. And he doesn’t seem to get used to it. He hollers just as loud now as the first time I ever heard him.”
“Did the lobster holler?” chuckled Agnes. “Did it, Dot?”
But Dot—who was not allowed to “mess in” with the lunch—had found another subject for consideration. She had been looking at Ruth, dexterously opening a second can of sardines. Now, when the cover was laid back and the oil drained off, the smallest girl pointed a dimpled finger at the contents of the can.