“'Twas nice outdoors,” said little Davie, reflectively; “and nice inside, too.” And then he glanced over to his mother, who gave him a smile in return. “And 'twas nice always.”
“Well,” said Van, returning to the picture, “I do wish you'd tell me how to draw, Ben. I can't do anything but flowers,” he said in a discouraged way.
“Flowers aren't anything,” said Percy, pleasantly. “That's girls' work; but dogs and horses and cars—those are just good!”
“Will you, Ben?” asked Van, looking down into the big blue eyes, so kindly turned up to his.
“Yes, indeed I will,” cried Ben, “that is, all I know; 'tisn't much, but everything I can, I'll tell you.”
“Then I can learn, can't I?” cried Van joyfully.
“Oh, tell me too, Ben,” cried Percy, “will you? I want to learn too.”
“And me!” cried Dick, bending forward, nearly upsetting Phronsie as he did so. “Yes, say I may, Ben, do!”
“You're too little,” began Percy. But Ben nodded his head at Dick, which caused him to clap his hands and return to his original position, satisfied.
“Well, I guess we're going to, too,” said Joel. “Dave an' me; there isn't anybody goin' to learn without us.”