"
Another loud laugh greeted this; largely due to the comical expression
on Tilly James's face, which so far upset Quincy's habitual gravity that
he was obliged to smile in spite of himself.
If Strout felt the shot he did not betray it, but turned to Huldy, who
stood at his right, and said, "Now, Miss Mason, let me read your poetry
for you, as they do it in the city."
Huldy hesitated, holding the slip of paper between her fingers, "Oh!
that ain't fair," said Strout. "I've set you a good example, now you
mustn't squeal. Come, walk right up to the trough."
"I'm no pig," protested Huldy.
As Strout leaned over to take the paper he said in an undertone, "No,
you are a little dear;" whereat Huldy's face flushed a bright crimson.
Strout cleared his voice and then read:
"Come wreathe your face with smiles, my dear,
A husband you'll find within the year."
This was greeted with laughter, clapping of hands, and cries of "Who is
it, Huldy?"
The Professor looked at Huldy inquiringly, but she averted her eyes. He
leaned over and said in an undertone, "May I keep this?"
Huldy looked up and said in a tone that was heard by every one at the
table, "I don't care; if you like it better than that one about the
bumblebee you can have it.
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