"Perhaps you'd rather recite a poem," said Charlotte.
"May I have it as short as I please?" asked Ruth as if an idea had struck her, and as Betty nodded assent, she added, "Give me five minutes by myself and I'll do it."
The girls chatted while Ruth went just out of hearing and communed with herself.
"Time's up, Ruth," called Dorothy.
"All right," answered Ruth, walking into the circle and sitting down, while she met the expectant eyes with a roguish twinkle in her own. Then she recited:
"There was a young girl from the West,
Who very much needed a rest.
When asked, 'Can you sing?'
She replied, 'Not a thing:'
And felt very sadly depressed."
Ruth suited her expression to her last words in so comical a fashion that the girls shouted with laughter.
"However did you do it, Ruth?" asked Betty. "I couldn't make a rhyme to save me."
"Oh, father and I got into the habit of making up those five-liners, and I often do it just for fun."
"We're proud to have such a poetess in the Social Six," said
Charlotte, making her a sweeping bow with her hand on her heart.