"Say, Sam, you ask her, will you?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"Oh, I don't know. I tried to yesterday, but somehow I couldn't get it
out."
"Well, I'll tell you what I will do," said good-natured Sammy. "You come
round to-night after I get my chores done up, and we'll go together and
have it over with."
"All right; I'll come," said Roy.
They found Miss Ruth alone, for it was Thursday night and the minister's
family were at the prayer-meeting. The September evening was chilly, and
she was sitting before an open fire.
"You do the talking," Roy whispered at the door, and accordingly Sammy,
after fidgeting in his seat a little, opened the subject.
"Roy wants me to ask you," he began, and then stopped at a punch in the
side from Roy's knuckles, and began again: "Me and Roy would like--if it
wouldn't be too much trouble, and you'd just as soon as not--to have you
tell us a horse story next time." Then in a loud whisper aside to Roy:
"You _did_ ask me! You know you did."
"Well, you needn't put it all on me, if I did," Roy answered, in the
same tone.
Miss Ruth appeared not to notice this by-play.
"A horse story," she said pleasantly; "yes, why not?"
"You see," Sammy continued, "we like to hear about cats well enough, and
that ant battle was first-rate--I'd like to have seen it, I know; but
Roy, he says the girls might be writin' notes askin' you to tell more
cat stories and--and--well"--
"Yes, I see," she said; "too much of a good thing.
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