But Rosy, surmising by her movement that she contemplated leaving, began to wail plaintively, begging her so hard to tell just one more “lubly story.” As Nathalie stood, trying her best to think of another story, she heard a slight noise, and looked up to see three little black faces with big shiny eyes staring at her from over the ledge of the window.
The girl broke into a merry laugh, for really it was funny to see those three round faces—like a row of flower-pot saucers on a shelf. “Why, how did you get there?” she cried and then again burst into laughter. The laughter proved contagious, for the three little pickaninnies immediately joined in her merriment, and then, evidently thinking this was an invitation to come in, one after the other slid over the sill and trotted up to the bed, to the great delight of Rosy. Here they climbed up, sitting on the edge with their naked black feet hanging down, looking for all the world like monkeys’ claws as they swung them to and fro, anxiously waiting for the story to begin.
“Why, how did you get there?”
“Oh, what shall I tell them?” worried Nathalie, but in a flash she remembered, and was soon in the mysteries of that beloved of all fairy tales, “Jack and the Bean Stalk.” The interested glow in four pairs of eyes was inspiring, and amply repaid her for the time that she had so reluctantly given the little hearers.
The tale was soon ended, and again Nathalie sprang to her feet, feeling that now she must go, for there was that dessert she had to make for dinner. She gathered up her basket and had just turned to say good-by to her audience of four, when she saw Dr. Morrow, who was standing by the door, smiling down at her with his kindly eyes.
“Oh, were you there all the time?” she asked in dismay. The doctor nodded as he said, “Yes, Blue Robin, I have enjoyed your story very much. You had such an appreciative audience,” smiling at the little black faces, “that I was reluctant to disturb their bliss. Our little friend Rosy has well named you, ‘The Story Lady.’”