"You'll see. Lemme down." And Susy slipped to the ground.

The dance of High Jambooree, evidently of remote mystical African
origin, appeared to consist of three small skips to the right and
then to the left, accompanied by the holding up of very short skirts,
incessant "teetering" on the toes of small feet, the exhibition of
much bare knee and stocking, and a gurgling accompaniment of childish
laughter. Vehemently applauded, it left the little performer breathless,
but invincible and ready for fresh conquest.

"I kin sing, too," she gasped hurriedly, as if unwilling that the
applause should lapse. "I kin sing. Oh, dear! Kla'uns," piteously, "WHAT
is it I sing?"

"Ben Bolt," suggested Clarence.

"Oh, yes. Oh, don't you remember sweet Alers Ben Bolt?" began Susy, in
the same breath and the wrong key. "Sweet Alers, with hair so brown, who
wept with delight when you giv'd her a smile, and--" with knitted brows
and appealing recitative, "what's er rest of it, Kla'uns?"

"Who trembled with fear at your frown?" prompted Clarence.

"Who trembled with fear at my frown?" shrilled Susy. "I forget er rest.
Wait! I kin sing--"

"Praise God," suggested Clarence.

"Yes." Here Susy, a regular attendant in camp and prayer-meetings, was