With these opening remarks the poet took a seat and calmly awaited a response. The young ladies, I regret to say, giggled, then remembering their manners, hastened to inform him that there would be heaps of cakes, also that Miss Celia would not mind his coming without an invitation, they were quite sure.
"She asked me to come that day. I have been very busy. I had measles. Do you have them here?" asked the guest, as if anxious to compare notes on the sad subject.
"We had ours ever so long ago. What have you been doing besides having measles?" said Betty, showing a polite interest.
"I had a fight with a bumble-bee."
"Who beat?" demanded Bab.
"I did. I ran away and he couldn't catch me."
"Can you shoot nicely?"
"I hit a cow. She did not mind at all. I guess she thought it was a fly."
"Did your mother know you were coming?" asked Bab, feeling an interest in runaways.
"No; she is gone to drive, so I could not ask her."