“It isn’t romantic at all,” interrupted Alice. “It’s practical—at least I think that’s the proper word,” and she looked rather doubtfully at Natalie.
“Oh, say, we’re forgetting all about our Indian names,” exclaimed Marie. “I wonder what signified bluebird?”
“Wash-ton-su-goo!” gurgled her brother.
“Jack!” she cried. “If you don’t stop I’ll never let you stay in when we have tea again. You’re too——”
“All right, sis!” he laughed. “I’ll be good. Only it’s such a joke.”
“We’re really in earnest,” explained Natalie. “You should see our rules, and learn how we can acquire merit——”
“Like the Hindoo Yogis,” declared Phil. “Natalie, the dreamer, talking of acquiring merit. Say, if you girls get to have any more merit you’ll be too good for this earth.”
“Be quiet!” begged Mabel. “Blake, did you say you had an Indian book at home?”
“I have. Shall I get it?”
“Listen, girls!” called Mabel. “Why can’t you all come over to my house this evening, and we’ll select our names. Blake only lives around the corner. He can leave the book, and——”