"Oh, he knows a stable when he sees it," said Jack, smiling; "but where 's the kitchen?"
"Right off the porch.--There 's Rose singing now; guess that 'll be as good a guide-post as you could have. Come along, Little Shaver,--a good name for you."
Jack went up on the porch, but stopped short at the open door. Rose was at the kitchen table, patting out the dough for the rolls. Her sleeves were turned up above the elbows, and the round, yet delicate, white arms and the pretty hands were working energetically with the rolling-pin. She was singing from pure lightheartedness, and she emphasized the rhythm by substantial thumps with the culinary utensil.
"Rose was at the kitchen table, patting out the dough for the rolls"
"'I told thee when love was hopeless; (thump)
But now he is wild and sings--(thump)
That the stars above (thump! thump!!)
Shine ever on Love--(thump--)'"
Jack knocked rather loudly, and Rose turned with a little "Oh!" and an attitude that made Jack long for a button-hole kodak.