“Made in Rome. Now you are dumb, Betty. Locative for Rome, and I thought I’d better use the neuter singular—don’t know what ‘Valentine’ would be.”
“I see. Hoc Romae factum est, as it were.”
“Ye-ah. I’d have put in more Latin, but it would give Bustum a pain and he wouldn’t take the trouble to translate it. I hope he realizes the trouble I’m taking.”
“That’s an idea, Dick,” said his twin. “I think I’ll fix up something like it myself. Do you care?”
“Nup, only I’d rather Bustum got his first.”
“All right. I’m not going to send very many through the mail anyhow—mostly leave them on the desks or get somebody else to hand them out. It isn’t like the good old days in the grades!” Doris laughed over her own memories.
“Amy Lou is going through that now, and it’s lots of fun, Doris. Let’s see that she gets plenty through the mail, too. She’ll smell a mouse if valentines in the mail box haven’t any stamps on them.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some of her friends might slip up and put them there.”
As Dick’s efforts had started them, the girls began to make up verses. Betty brought her pencil and paper for scribbling and hunted up some old materials for valentines that she had kept from former times. “We’ll get some at the ten cent store,” said Betty, “but if we can make a few pretty ones out of our old ones and this stuff, Amy Lou will like them and wonder who sent them.”
“Numbers of valentines have a lot to do with fun on Valentine’s day,” said Doris. “Let’s keep it going for Amy Lou—ring the bell and run, you know, and all that.”