Ralph Henry Barbour

“ And Mr. Tully begged me to come and Aunt Myra said that anything one could do to cheer a fellow mortal in distress should be done, and—so I went. And I'm not ashamed of it, not one bit.
The great occasion was when one afternoon Mr. Tully came over and ceremoniously escorted Aunt Myra and me over to call on Mr. Reed. Aunt Myra had been just dying to go, but wouldn't until she was invited. So one day, when Mr. Reed asked after her health, I told him, and when I went home I bore a very polite message to her. ”

“ But he wasn't comforted, because, as he said, all he had done with those was to set them in the ground.
“Oh, but I can see that they've had good care,” I answered. “Putting them into the ground isn't everything; a whole lot depends on the way you look after them.”
“Do you really think so?” he asked hopefully. “Well, I have watered them pretty carefully and that's a fact. I've thought myself that—er—maybe they were doing rather better than some I've seen.”
“Indeed they are,” I said. And when I left him he was quite perked up and had decided to try the sweet peas again. ”

“ Tully and some that I didn't; about his boyhood and his college days. And I told him everything there was to tell about myself, only there wasn't very much after all. It's an awful handicap to be a girl when it comes to telling experiences. It does seem as though nothing ever happens to girls.
When I got home I found Aunt Myra in a perfect spasm of excitement because a telegram had just come from the Major, saying he would be down that afternoon on the five-twenty. ”