Fairy stifled her laughter with difficulty, and said in a low voice,
"Wouldn't you like a little nice, hot, oyster stew?" Prudence repeated
it after her breathlessly.

So Fairy returned once more, and soon after Prudence tapped on the
door. Then she opened it, and thrust her curly head inside. "Wouldn't
you like a little nice, hot, oyster stew?" she chirped methodically.
And Fairy said, "Oh, yes indeed, Prudence,--this is so nice of you."

The stew was steaming hot, and the three gathered sociably
about the table. Prudence was talking. Fairy was passing the
"crackers,"--Prudence kicked her foot gently beneath the table, to
remind her that etiquette calls them "wafers." So it happened that
Babbie was first to taste the steaming stew. He gasped, and gulped,
and swallowed some water with more haste than grace. Then he toyed
idly with spoon and wafer until Prudence tasted also. Prudence did not
gasp. She did not cry out. She looked up at her sister with wide hurt
eyes,--a world of pathos in the glance. But Fairy did not notice.

"Now, please do not ask me to talk until I have finished my soup," she
was saying brightly, "I simply can not think and appreciate oyster stew
at the same time."

Then she appreciated it! She dropped her spoon with a great clatter,
and jumped up from the table. "Mercy!" she shrieked. "It is poisoned!"

Babbie leaned back in his chair and laughed until his eyes were wet.
Prudence's eyes were wet, too, but not from laughter! What would
etiquette think of her, after this?