THE BOOK OF BETTY BARBER.
“My ward, Minora,” said the Major, staring in astonishment at that young lady, and giving her arm a shake. “I am Major C.”
“Major D Flat, at your service,” said the owner of the house.
“Look at his face,” whispered Minora, as Major D Flat stepped aside to allow the strangers to enter. “He’s forgotten to wash it.”
And, indeed, the Major’s face was quite black.
“Come in, come in,” he said cheerfully. “I am pleased to see you. Can I do anything for you?”
Major C looked at the staircase. It was nearly as black as its owner’s face.
“I wanted.” he began.
“Well, you must know,” interrupted Minora, “he has very sensibly come to the conclusion that his own staircase is a bit dull.”
“Minora, be quiet,” said Major C.
“Would you walk up my staircase?” said the black-faced Major pleasantly.
Major C put one foot on the first step, up sprang a little black head. The Major stepped back in astonishment, right on the top of Minora, and down they tumbled together.
“Only one of my Flats,” said Major D Flat, “I’m so sorry; I hope you are not hurt.”
“Not much,” said Major C politely. “Might we perhaps sit on your third step?”
Major D Flat said, “Certainly.” But to reach the third step, which looked so white and inviting, they had to pass the second, and as soon as Major C’s foot touched it, up sprang a second little black head, and once more down slipped the Major. He rolled over and over, and once more arrived on the top of Minora, knocking her right down.
“I’m going home,” said Minora, “I’m sorry I came, you’ve hurt me.”
