"Why, you little greenie," said Miss Rose, "he does not pay us high
wages." "Oh, I see, how romantic! how nice!" exclaimed I. "You do as
the ladies in the good old time of chivalry, when knights donned
their colors and sallied forth to battle with lions and tigers. You
crave largesse, and the gentlemen favor you with money and jewels."
Then the youngest girl laughed and said, "Oh, you pore, innicent
bairn, and how do yez ken all this? and how did yez know that Misther
Payterson kapes a tiger at all, at all, begorra!" Another young lady
said, "Dutchy, I reckon yore daddy is a right smart cunning old fox!"
"Madame," replied I, indignantly, "my father is no fox, but a
minister of the Gospel." "Oh, this bye is the son of a praste,"
screamed the loveliest girl in all Missouri. "Indade, I misthrusted
the little scamp. Och! oh and where is me brooch? I thought all the
time the little divvil was afther something. Thieves! Murther!"
Confusion in pandemonium now reigned supreme. For one precious moment
the air seemed full of long-legged stockings and delicate hands and
purses. Luckily, the brooch was found and peace restored at once. And
Rose said, "Oh, girls, how could you!" and she begged my pardon and
said they did not mean it.
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