At last she gave in and hesitatingly whispered: "Let me see it." Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney.

Then the girl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot everything else.

When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then whispered: "It's nice--make a man." The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick.
He could have stepped over the house; but the girl was not hypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered: "It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along." Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and armed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan.

The girl said: "It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw." "It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you." "Oh, will you?
When ?" "At noon.

Do you go home to dinner ?" "I'll stay if you will." "Good--that's a whack.