"Ach, so, of course. And I," he bowed deeply, "am Herr Schmidt, Miss O'Brien."
The Atom's heart rejoiced exceedingly. She put down her glass and slipped off her chair. Gravely she bowed her head, and the pig-tail stuck out with a rakish air of enjoyment. Reseating herself, she politely urged him to have some cake.
"Now we are friends, I will interdruce you to my Snowy-Breasted Pearl, Mr. Hair Smitt. He is very beautiful. I couldn't bring him with me, because, he preferred to stay in his cage." She eyed a red tooth-mark on her forefinger. "He is very high-spirited, you see. He is gold and brown and he has a white breast like pearls and snow, and he is white behind, too—just up over his extremes and both hind legs. Nell has painted him lots of times. You see, in the song, 'the snowy-breasted Pearl' is a lady, but my dear guinea-pig was so 'zact, I crissened him that."
"I wish you would be so goot as to sing the song to me, Miss O'Brien."
"Is it me sing? Oh, yes. But it's rather long. Do you think you'd get tired of it at all?"
He denied such a possibility with horror.
"My mouth is rather full of cake, Mr. Hair Smitt. Do you mind waitin' a little?"
The cake disposed of, she lifted up a sweet little voice, and sang:—
"'There's a colleen fair as May,
For a year and for a day
I have sought by ev'ry way
Her heart to gain.
"'There's no art of tongue or eye
Fond youths with maidens try,
But I've tried with ceaseless sigh,
Yet tried in vain.'"
(Pause.) "I'm afraid I forget some," the Atom confessed, ashamed. "But I know all the parts about my guinea-pig," she added anxiously.