"Oh, I don't know. I tried to yesterday, but somehow I couldn't get it out."
"Well, I'll tell you what I will do," said good-natured Sammy. "You come round to-night after I get my chores done up, and we'll go together and have it over with."
"All right; I'll come," said Roy.
They found Miss Ruth alone, for it was Thursday night and the minister's family were at the prayer-meeting. The September evening was chilly, and she was sitting before an open fire.
"You do the talking," Roy whispered at the door, and accordingly Sammy, after fidgeting in his seat a little, opened the subject.
"Roy wants me to ask you," he began, and then stopped at a punch in the side from Roy's knuckles, and began again: "Me and Roy would like—if it wouldn't be too much trouble, and you'd just as soon as not—to have you tell us a horse story next time." Then in a loud whisper aside to Roy: "You did ask me! You know you did."
"Well, you needn't put it all on me, if I did," Roy answered, in the same tone.
Miss Ruth appeared not to notice this by-play.
"A horse story," she said pleasantly; "yes, why not?"
"You see," Sammy continued, "we like to hear about cats well enough, and that ant battle was first-rate—I'd like to have seen it, I know; but Roy, he says the girls might be writin' notes askin' you to tell more cat stories and—and—well"—