“But what a ghastly play!” exclaimed Shirley. “Where did you learn it?”
“We were playing Mis’ Poly Gifford in the hospital,” Rickey answered. “She’s got a whole lot of little pebbles that they cut out—”
“Oh, Rickey!” expostulated Shirley with a shudder.
“They did. She keeps them in a little pasteboard box like wedding-cake, with a blue ribbon around it. She was showing it to Miss Mattie Sue yesterday. She was telling her all about it. She said all the women there showed each other their cuts and bragged about how long they were.”
Valiant’s merriment rang out under the trees, but Shirley was crimson. “Well, I don’t think it’s a nice play,” she said decidedly.
“That’s just the way,” murmured Rickey disconsolately, “yesterday it was Romeo and Juliet with the Meredith children, and their mother had a conniption fit.”
“Was that gruesome, too?”
“Not so very. I only poisoned Rosebud and June and stabbed myself. I don’t call that gruesome.”
“You certainly have a highly developed taste for the dramatic,” said Shirley. “I wonder what your next effort will be.”
“It’s to-morrow,” Rickey informed her. “We’re going to have the duel between Valiant and Sassoon.”