"Oh! I can't!" cried poor Peggy. "They have said everything; Mrs. Merryweather, I can't ever play anything of this kind, you know. I am too stupid."
"Nonsense, my child; you are not in the least stupid. If you cannot think of a word, go on with the story."
"But I don't know how!" cried Peggy, her eyes growing large and round, with a look that Gertrude and Margaret knew only too well. The tears were not far behind those round blue eyes; and Margaret hastened to the rescue. "You met a man, dear!" she whispered. "That is all you need say."
"Well—I met a man!" said Peggy, with a gasp.
"Individual!"
"Anthropoid ape!"
"Masculine mortal!"
"Chump!"
"I object to the definition!" said Mrs. Merryweather. "In case of a false definition, the falsifier takes up the thread. Go on, Jerry."