“I have taken the liberty,” chuckled Dick, “of changing a word or two occasionally, to make better sense of it, and of leaving out some lines altogether. Every one is privileged to vary an established form.” Without further preliminary, he read the improved version.
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“The little doggie sheds his coat,
Elaine, have you forgotten?
What is it goes around a button?
I thought you knew that simple thing,
But ideas in your head take wing.
Elaine, have you forgotten?
The answer is a goat. “How much is three times humpty-steen? Elaine, have you forgotten? Why does a chicken cross the road? Who carries home a toper’s load? You are so very stupid, dear! Elaine, have you forgotten? “You think a mop of scarlet hair And pale green eyes——” |
“That will do,” said Miss St. Clair, crisply. “Mr. Perkins, may I ask as a favour that you will not speak to me again?” She marched out with her head high, and Mr. Perkins, wholly unstrung, buried his face in his napkin.
Harlan laughed—a loud, ringing laugh, such as Dorothy had not heard from him for months, and striding around the table, he grasped Dick’s hand in tremendous relief.
“Let me have it,” he cried, eagerly. “Give me all of it!”
“Sure,” said Dick, readily, passing over both sheets of paper.
Harlan went into the library with the composition, and presently, when Dick was walking around the house and saw bits of torn paper fluttering out of the open window, a light broke through his usual density.
“Whew!” he said to himself. “I’ll be darned! I’ll be everlastingly darned! Idiot!” he continued, savagely. “Oh, if I could only kick myself! Poor Dorothy! I wonder if she knows!”