"My, but he sounds interesting," Kit remarked fervently. "I almost feel like hunting him up; don't you, Jean?"
Jean nodded her head. She was putting up currants and raspberries, and the day was very warm.
"Why do you keep a fire going in the house?" Miss Robbins asked her. "Put an old stove out in the back-yard, the way I do, and let it sizzle along. Good-bye, everybody. I hear all the ministers are still speaking to each other."
"Come down and play tennis with us," called Helen.
"Go 'long, child." Cousin Roxy chuckled. "How would I look hopping around like a katydid, slapping at those little balls! Get up there, Ella Lou."
"Well," Kit exclaimed, as the buggy drove away, "it seems as if every single day something new happens here, and we thought it would be so dull we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves."
"You mean Billie's something new?" asked Helen.
"Doesn't he sound interesting? I'm going out to ask Honey about him."
"You'd better help me finish these berries, Kathleen," Jean urged. So Kit gave up the quest temporarily, and sat on the edge of the kitchen table, stripping currants from their stems, and singing at the top of her clear young lungs:
"'Oh, where have you been, Billie Boy, Billie Boy,
Where have you been, charming Billie?'
'I've been to seek a wife, she's the comfort of my life,'
But she's a young thing, and cannot leave her mother.'
"'Did she bid you come in, Billie Boy, Billie Boy,
Did she bid you come, charming Billie?'
'Yes, she bid me come in, with a dimple in her chin,
But she's a young thing, and cannot leave her mother.'
"'Did she offer you a chair, Billie Boy, Billie Boy,
Did she offer you a chair, charming Billie?'
'Yes, she offered me a chair, with the ringlets in her hair,
But she's a young thing and cannot leave her mother.'
"'Can she make a cherry pie, Billie Boy, Billie Boy--'"