"How elegant are your expressions, Teddy!" remarked Louise, sighing.
But she was amused as well as the others when Ted produced a paper on which he had written down the verse Mr. Derby said his son had recited, and just as Timothy had said it!
"Listen, all of you," begged Teddy. "Now, don't laugh and spoil it all, Tom. Listen:
"'Lettuce denby uppan doing
Widow Hartford N E fate,
Still H E ving, still pursuing,
Learn to label Aunty Waite.'"
Libbie's voice rose above the general laughter, and she was quite warm. For Libbie's was a loyal soul.
"I don't care! I don't believe it. His father is always making fun of Timothy. He—he is cruel, I think. And, anyway, Timothy was only a little boy then."
"What did he want to label his Aunty Waite for?" demanded Bob.
"You all be pretty good," called Betty, seeing that Libbie was really getting angry. "If you aren't I'll ask Timothy and Libbie to my party at Mountain Camp and none of the rest of you shall go."
"Easy enough said, that, Betty," Bob rejoined. "You haven't very much chance of going there.
