“It would probably please him, though I doubt if he would show any outward signs of it.” Miss Drexal looked mildly amused.
“I’ll go with you, Ruth,” volunteered Frances. “On the way I’ll think up a polite little verse of invitation to hurl at him. Let me see. How would this sound:
“Blue Wolf, kind Blue Wolf,
Your supper is spread
With nice beans and bacon
And peaches and bread.
So run to the table as fast as you can,
And gobble your eats like a good little man!”
“He’ll probably jump straight into the lake,” giggled Sarah. “If we hear a grand splash, we’ll know what happened.”
“Wait till you hear it.” Frances scrambled to her feet. “Come on, Ruth.”