"May I speak now, Teacher!" "Yes, Ethel, dear," said Midget, kindly; "you may speak your piece first.

Stand up here, by me.

Make your bow." So Cousin Ethel came up to Marjorie, and acted like a very shy and bashful child.

She put her finger in her mouth, and dropped her eyes and wriggled about, and picked at her skirt, until everybody was in peals of laughter.
"Be quiet, children," said Midget, trying to control her own face.

"Now, everybody sit still while Ethel Bryant recites." Cousin Ethel made a very elaborate dancing-school bow, and then, swaying back and forth in school-child fashion, she recited in a monotonous singsong, these lines: "MUD PIES "The grown-ups are the queerest folks; they never seem to know That mud pies always have to be made just exactly so.
You have to have a nice back yard, a sunny pleasant day, And then you ask some boys and girls to come around and play.
You mix some mud up in a pail, and stir it with a stick; It mustn't be a bit too thin--and not a bit too thick.
And then you make it into pies, and pat it with your hand, And bake 'em on a nice flat board, and my! but they are grand!" Mrs.Bryant declaimed, with suitable gestures, and finally sat down on the floor and made imaginary mud pies, in such a dear, childish way that her audience was delighted, and gave her really earnest encores.
"Do you know another piece, Ethel ?" asked Marjorie.
"Yes, ma'am," and Mrs.Bryant resumed her shy voice and manner.
"Then you may recite it, as your little schoolmates seem anxious to have you do so." So again, Mrs.Bryant diffidently made her bow, and recited, with real dramatic effect: "AN UNVISITED LOCALITY "I wisht I was as big as men, To see the Town of After Ten; I've heard it is so bright and gay, It's almost like another day.
But to my bed I'm packed off straight When that old clock strikes half-past eight! It's awful hard to be a boy And never know the sort of joy That grown-up people must have when They're in the Town of After Ten.
I'm sure I don't know what they do, For shops are closed, and churches too.
Perhaps with burglars they go 'round, And do not dare to make a sound! Well, soon I'll be a man, and then I'll see the Town of After Ten!" "Oh, Cousin Ethel, you're lovely!" cried Marjorie, forgetting her role for the moment.