“Dat's all right, sah,” and Sylvia folded her arms aggressively, “but you can't see her.”
“Ain't she in?”
“Yes, she's in, but she begs to be excuged.” This last in the most impressive manner possible.
Dick and Courage, who were sitting just out of sight, looked at each other and almost laughed outright. What remarkable phrases Sylvia seemed always to have at her tongue's end! Indeed, Dick did not know at all what was meant by the fine phrase, but fortunately the statue boy did—that is after a moment or two of reflection.
“So she don't want to see me,” he said, sullenly adjusting his oars with considerable more noise than was necessary; “well, no more then do I want to see her. I ain't no mind to stay where I ain't wanted, but I reckon it's the last time you'll be 'lowed to anchor your old scow over the line without there being a row about it,” and with this parting rejoinder their would-be caller beat a welcome retreat.
“Oh, Sylvia, how did you happen to think to say that?” laughed Courage.
“Why, dat's what you must allers say when anybody calls. Dey teached it in a game in de Kitchen Garden. We all stood up in a ring, an' a girl came an' knocked on yer back and axed, 'Is Mis' Brown to home?' Den you turn roun' an' say, 'Mis' Brown are to home, but begs to be excuged,' and den it was yer turn to be de caller and knock on some other girl's back.”
“But, Sylvia, if Mrs. Brown wanted to see the caller what would you say?”
“I don' prezachly recommember. I mos'ly likes de excuged one de bes'.”
Meantime Dick made his way to Larry.