"When she makes the tea,
Brews it from a caddy,
Who so blithe as she,
Peg of Limavaddy?
"See her o'er the stove,
Broiling of a haddie;
Thus she won my love,
Peg of Limavaddy.
"But building of a boat,
Her success is shady;
Bet you she won't float,
Peg of Limavaddy!"
"Wait till to-morrow," cried Peggy, laughing, "and you'll see whether she floats or not. And anyhow, she is my first boat. Isn't there a special class for beginners, Mr. Merryweather?"
"No, no! no fear or favor shown; the rigor of the game, little Peggy. Margaret, have you given up?"
"Oh, yes, please, Mr. Merryweather!" said Margaret, looking up from her knitting with a smile. "I could not; it simply was not possible. Gerald was positive at first that he could teach me, but after one lesson he was equally positive that he could not. I needed no conviction, because I knew I could not."
"Nobody can do absolutely everything," said Gerald, "except the Codger,—I allude to my revered uncle, Margaret,—and I have at times desired to drown him for that qualification. You shall be the starter, Margaret; you'll do that to perfection."
"What are the duties of a starter?" asked Margaret; "I shall be very glad to do anything I really can."
"To sit still and look pretty!" said Gerald, demurely. "I think you can manage it."
"Have I the full list?" asked Mrs. Merryweather. "I'll read it aloud.
"The Principal Whale,—Papa."
"I wish you would not call my father names!" murmured Gerald.