"I can do better than that. It requires a calm dignity and caution," observed Ted. "You were too rash, O.B., too Oirish altogether."
He dragged his rugs and shawls together.
"You've lit them again? Thanks. Now!"
He jumped slowly, heavily, without any spring, cleared January successfully, and put out February with a fliff of his draperies.
"Hang it all! That's not fair. Why, it's out before I've jumped the thing!"
"Of course!" cried Nell, gleefully. "You're too English altogether, Ted! You should be more careful with your skirt!"
"Um." He eyed the candle reflectively, then cautiously stepped round it.
"I'm not going to jump it for nothing," he declared; "it's out and it can't be outer. Now for March."
He rolled his draperies into a ball in front, jumped blindly, the ball projecting too far for him to be able to see the candle, and peered round complacently.
"He's all right!"