"You say," murmured Ajax, "that Miss Dutton's appetite was good?"

"It was just grand," replied the unhappy bard. "I never seen a lady
eat cup-custards with sech relish."

"We may infer, then," observed my brother, "that Miss Birdie is still
in happy ignorance of your condition; otherwise pity for you would
surely have tempered that craving for cup-custards."

"I dun'no', boys, about that. Me an' Miss Birdie sung out o' the same
hynm book, and--and I sort o' showed down. I reckon she knows what
ails Jasper Jasperson."

Ajax unwisely congratulated the lovelorn one upon this piece of news.
He said that the Rubicon was now passed, and retreat impossible. We
noted the absence of the rosebud, and Jasperson blushingly confessed
that he had presented the flower to his best girl after dinner, an act
of homage--so we presumed--in recognition of the lady's contempt of
danger in mixing pickled cucumbers with cup-custards.

"After that," said Jasperson, "I thought of the album, an' 'twas then
my feet begun to get cold. But I up and as't to see it, as bold as a
coyote in a hen-roost. Then she sez, kind of soft an' smilin': 'Why,
Mister Jasper, what d'you want to see my album for? you don't know my
folks.'"

"A glorious opportunity," said Ajax. "What did you reply, my buck?"

"Dog-gone it! I'd ought to have sailed right in, but I sot there,