“Not such a bad idea, at that!” added Uncle Ben.
“Good gracious, Ben! You don’t mean it—really!” cried Miss Selina, aghast.
“Why not! Richards and I are homeless city waifs, as well as the Little Citizens, so we could live with you and help keep house,” replied Uncle Ben.
“Ben, think of my age! And New York, too!”
“Why should I think of your age now, when you have proven without a doubt that you are only fifty-five or sixty in reality! Years count for nothing when one is as spry as you are,” laughed Mr. Talmage.
“Why Ben Talmage! How you talk! Only last year I was all tied in knots with rheumatism and couldn’t walk!” cried Flutey.
“Oh Flutey, stop trying to make believe you want to be back where I found you!” exclaimed Ruth, indignantly.
The other Blue Birds laughed teasingly at Miss Selina, and she smiled too. “Yes, I suppose the surest way to charm back that rheumatic state is to think of it!” said she.
“Well, it’s just the same with old age! If you keep talking and thinking of it, pretty soon you are old and helpless! And we know you’re not—so there!” declared Ruth.
“Didn’t you trot everywhere with the Blue Birds and Bobolinks while you were at Mossy Glen?” demanded Ned, her grand-nephew.