"Anyhow, if she hasn't proved this year
that she's fit to play anything--dishes or wall-paper or babies--" He
stopped, laughing. "I don't know how to say it, but as sure as my name's
Jefferson Birch she--er--"
"Hear! hear!" the captain encouraged him softly.
"Here's,"--shouted the boy, "here's to the Second Violin!"
Through the friendly laughter and murmurs of appreciation, Charlotte,
dropping shy, happy eyes, read the real love and respect of everybody,
and felt that the year's experiences had brought her a rich reward. But
all she said, as Jeff, exhausted by his effort at oratory, dropped upon
the grass beside her, was in his ear:
"If anybody deserves a toast, Jeffy boy, I think it's you. You've eaten
so many slices of mine--burnt to a cinder--and never winced! If that
isn't heroism, what is?"
* * * * *
BOOK II
THE CHURCHILL LATCH-STRING
* * * * *
CHAPTER I
"Here's another, Charlotte!"
Young Justin Birch's lusty shout rang through the house from hall to
kitchen, vibrating even as far as the second-story room in the rear,
where Charlotte herself happened at that moment to be.
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