"The lawn is so slippery—"
"They are nimble on their feet, and the ground is soft."
Edith retired to her piano practise and the mother resumed her knitting with her usual tranquillity. Suddenly above the soft strains of music that filled the house, rose a yell of dismay from a dozen throats outside.
"What's happened?" Edith glanced apprehensively toward the door.
"Their ball is caught on the roof," answered her mother, still smiling placidly. "Guess their game is over for tonight. Well, it is time. The clock is just ready to strike five."
Edith turned back to the piano, but before her hands had touched the ivory keys, there was a wild, excited, protesting shout from outside that brought her to her feet and sent her flying for the door.
"Peace, Peace! Come down. You'll fall! You'll fall!"
"Johnny Gates, take that back! She's not a coward! She couldn't keep the ball from catching in that corner."
"Oh, Peace, never mind the ball. It's Johnny who's the coward."
"Hush! You will confuse her!" Edith's voice was low but vibrant, and the screams from the terrified watchers below abruptly ceased.