“It might even be arranged,” replied Migwan. “What is your tale of woe, my ancient mariner?”
“My cherished landlady’s gone to the Exposition,” said Nyoda, with a fresh burst of grief, “and I can’t live with her and be her boarder this summer! It’s a cruel world! And me so young and tender!”
“Two flies in the guest chamber,” said Migwan, hospitably. “Thomas, my good man, carry the boarders’ bags up to their room, for I see they have brought them right with them.”
“Save the trouble of going back after them,” said Nyoda and Gladys, in chorus. “We knew you couldn’t refuse to take us in.”
“If ever a maiden had a look on her face which said, ‘Come, come to this bosom, my own stricken dear,’” continued Nyoda, “it’s yon poet who is going to seed.”
“Going to seed!” exclaimed Migwan, “and this after I have just opened my hospitable doors to you!”
“By going to seed, my innocent maid, I only meant to express in a veiled and delicate way the fact that you were turning into a farmer,” said Nyoda.
In spite of the fact that Migwan and Hinpoha had just expressed such great pleasure at the prospect of being alone together for the summer, they rejoiced in the arrival of Nyoda and Gladys as only two Winnebagos could at the thought of having two more of their own circle under the same roof with them, and their hearts beat high with anticipation of the coming larks.
Supper was a merry meal indeed that night, eaten out on the screened-in back porch. “We are seven!” exclaimed Nyoda, counting noses at the table. “The mystic number as well as the poetic one. ‘Seven Little Sisters;’ ‘The Seven Little Kids;’ ‘the seventh son of a seventh son.’ All mysterious things take place on the seventh of the month, and something always happens when the clock strikes seven.” As she paused to take breath the old-fashioned clock in the kitchen slowly struck seven. The last stroke was still vibrating when there came a ring at the doorbell. “What did I tell you?” said Nyoda. “Enter the villain.”
The villain proved to be Sahwah. She looked rather astonished to see Nyoda and Gladys at the table with the family. “Oh, Migwan,” she said, “could you possibly take me in for the summer? Mother got a telegram to-day saying that Aunt Mary, that’s her sister in Pennsylvania, had fallen down-stairs and broken both her shoulder blades. Mother packed up and went right away to take care of her and the children. She hasn’t any idea how long she’ll be gone. Father started for a long business trip out west this week and Jim is camping with the Boy Scouts. If you have room——” A shout of laughter interrupted her tale.