"
A rush was made for the table, and almost instantly each member of the
company became possessed of a souvenir and was busily engaged in untying
the ribbons.
Again Quincy's voice was heard above the tumult.
"In each package," cried he, "will be found printed on a slip of paper a
poetical selection. The poetry, like that found on valentines, is often
very poor, but the sentiment is there just the same. In the city the
plan that we follow is to pass our own slip to our left-hand neighbor
and he or she reads it."
This was too much for the Professor.
"I don't think," said he, "that we ought to foller that style of doin'
things jest because they do it that way in the city. We are pretty
independent in the country, like to do thing's our own way."
"Oh! it don't make any difference to me," said Quincy; "in the city when
we get a good thing we are willing to share it with our partners or
friends; you know I said if you didn't wish to keep your souvenir, you
could eat it, and of course the poetical selection is part of the
souvenir."
A peal of laughter greeted this sally, which rose to a shout when Strout
took his souvenir out of the box.
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