"So have I!" said Katy.
One by one the papers were collected and jumbled into a heap.
Then Katy, giving all a final shake, drew out one, opened it, and read.
WORD.—Radishes.
QUESTION.—How do you like your clergymen done? How do I like them done? Well, that depends.
I like them done on sleepy, drowsy Sundays;
I like them under-done on other days;
Perhaps a little over-done on Mondays.
But always I prefer them old as pa,
And not like radishes, all red and raw.
"Oh, what a rhyme! cried Clover.
"Well,—what is one to do?" said Ellen Gray. Then she stopped and bit her lip, remembering that no one was supposed to know who wrote the separate papers.
"Aha! it's your, is it, Ellen?" said Rose.
"You're an awfully clever girl, and an ornament to the S. S. U. C.
Go on, Katy."
Katy opened the second slip.
WORD.—Anything.
QUESTION.—Would you rather be a greater fool than you seem, or seem a greater fool than you are?
I wouldn't seem a fool for anything, my dear,
If I could help it; but I can't, I fear.
"Not bad," said Rose, nodding her head at Sally Alsop, who blushed crimson.
The third paper ran,—
WORD.—Mahershahalhashbaz.
QUESTION.—Does your mother know you're out?
Rose and Clover exchanged looks.
Why, of course my mother knows it, For she sent me out herself. She told me to run quickly, for It wasn't but a mile; But I found it was much farther, And my feet grew tired and weary, And I couldn't hurry greatly, So I took a long, long while. Beside, I stopped to read your word, A stranger one I never heard! I've met with Pa-pistical, That's pat; But _Ma-hershahalhashbaz, What's that?
"Oh, Clovy, you bright little thing!" cried Rose, in fits of laughter.
But Mary Silver looked quite pale.
"I never heard of any thing so awful!" she said.
"If that word had come to me, I should have fainted away on the spot,—I know I should!"
Next came—
WORD.—Buttons.
QUESTION.—What is the best way to make home happy?
To me 'tis quite clear I can answer this right:
Sew on the buttons, and sew them on tight.
"I suspect that is Amy's," said Esther: "she's such a model for mending and keeping things in order."
"It's not fair, guessing aloud in this way," said Sally Alsop.
Sally always spoke for Amy, and Amy for Sally.
"Voice and Echo" Rose called them: only, as she remarked, nobody could tell which was Echo and which Voice.
The next word was
"Mrs. Nipson," and the question,
"Do you like flowers?"
Do I like flowers?
I will not write a sonnet,
Singing their beauty as a poet might do: I just detest those on Aunt Nipson's bonnet,
Because they are like her,—all gray and blue,
Dusty and pinched, and fastened on askew!
And as for heaven's own buttercups and daisies,
I am not good enough to sing their praises.
Nobody knew who wrote this verse.