But Fred lingered.
"I say, Midge," he said, "let a fellow stay and see the rest of your charade, will you? It's jolly."
Maggie looked blank, but all she said was, "O Fred!"
"No, you can't," said Lily, unmindful of the duties of hospitality in her own attic; "you just can't, 'cause you'll laugh, and make fun of us."
"Now come on, Fred, and let them alone," called Tom from within the room. "I promised them they should not be teased if we came up here."
"I'm not going to tease them," said Fred. "I want to see the charade, really and truly. The little chaps do it first-rate, and I like it. Let me stay, girls."
Maggie and Bessie, especially the latter, had strong objections to being called "chaps," but Fred never could remember that. However, they passed it by; and Fred won a rather reluctant consent to his remaining as a spectator. He was put upon his good behavior, and with a run and a jump speedily landed himself beside Belle and Carrie, where he kept his word, and conducted himself as a well-behaved spectator should do.
The next syllable presented a lady writing, her maid sewing. In rushes a gardener, tree in hand, represented by a large feather dust-brush; and with much Irish brogue and great excitement, accuses the lady's son of cutting down a young peach-tree. Son denies, and is believed by his mother, who sternly tells the gardener that her son has never told a lie, and whatever he says is "true, true, true."
Gardener declares that "indade, an' he is thrue; an' if the missis will but make Master George Washington hould up the hand that's behint him, she'll see the hatchet he did it with."
Mother demands the hatchet, son rebels, still keeping his hand behind him, but mother, chasing round and round, presently discovers it; whereupon she clasps her hands frantically, cries she thought he was true, falls fainting to the ground, and is carried off by son, gardener, and maid.