A blush spread over the girl's cheeks to the pretty dimple at the point of her chin.
"You'll see her scampering up the ladder like a squirrel," said Mrs. Kelso. "She isn't real tame yet."
"Perhaps we could hide the ladder," he suggested, with a smile.
"Do you play on the flute?" Bim asked.
"No," said Mr. Biggs.
"I was afraid," Bim exclaimed. "My Uncle Henry does." She looked into Mr. Biggs' eyes.
"You like fun—don't you?" he said.
"Have you got a snare drum?" Bim queried.
"No. What put that into your head?" Mr. Biggs asked, a little mystified.
"I don't know. I thought I'd ask. My Uncle Henry has a snare drum. That's one reason we came to Illinois."