“Perhaps,” said Ronald, thoughtfully, “it might be just the same as work if you had to make up the stories.”
“But he doesn’t have to,” came quickly from Lesley; “they all happened to him.”
“No, not all,” eagerly, from Ronald; “not ‘The White Slipper’—I’m going to ask him for that to-day.”
“No, not ‘The White Slipper,’” agreed Lesley. “But I wish he’d tell us po’try, like what mother reads sometimes. I made up some myself last night about Jenny Lind.”
“About Jenny Lind? You couldn’t make po’try about a donkey!”
“You just listen now and see if I couldn’t,” cried Lesley.
“To shaggy Jenny Lind
There came an awful wind
And blew her over the cliff—
Over the cliff ... over the cliff—” slowly—“What was the last line?”