"Now, how did that happen, I wonder. My goodness, what will Mamma say?"
he teased.

"Phil," the girl half coaxed, but he read a desire for revenge in her
face.

"Jiminy Christmas, don't cry." He puckered up his lips in imitation of
a whimpering girl. "Got enough?"

"Phil," the word rang crossly, "you let me be now."

"All right, cry baby." He loosened his hold on her wrists. "But because
you're such a fraid cat I'll not give you what I brought for you."

"What is it?" The girl scrambled to her feet, curiosity helping her to
forget momentarily the boy's tricks. "What did you bring me?"

"Something that's little and almost round and blue and I got it in a
tree. Now if you're not a blockhead mebbe you can guess what it is."
He moved his hand about in his pocket.

"Phil, let me see." The words were plain coaxing then.

"Here." And he drew from his pocket a robin's egg.

"Philip Reist! Where did you get that?" The girl's voice was stern and
loud.

"Ach, I found the dandiest nest out on one of the cherry trees and I