Phil began to whistle a tune, which Rose tried to identify for her by striking the chords.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Phil, turning from the piano.
"Discussing the origin of the pyramids," replied Nan, rising. "You and Rose must have settled something in all the time you took to the dishes. It was a noisy session, too. You must have been playing drop the teacup."
Phil clasped her hands dramatically, reciting:—
"A moment then,
She poised upon the dishpan's utmost verge
The heirloom teapot old, with flowers bedight.
And with a cry—"
She paused, feigning forgetfulness. Her father rose quickly and caught up the imaginary fragment:—
"And with a cry
As when some greedy wight, on porridge keen,
Gulps it, and bawleth loud to find it hot,—
Screams for the cook and tuggeth at his sword—"
"Familiar," observed Rose dreamily from the piano. "Is it 'Pelleas and Etarre' or 'The Passing of Arthur'?"
"Nope. 'The Bold Buccaneer,' by the Honest Iceman of Mazoopa," answered Phil.
"And here he is now," said Nan as the front door boomed and rattled.