I dodged out of sight behind a hedge. When I thought it safe to come out, Dickie was swinging up the road toward me, whistling furiously. Clawing my shoulder, he remarked: "Say, old man, what do you think of her?" "Think of whom?" "Why, Rosie.

" "Rosie! What Rosie? Oh, you mean the one who gave you the cherries?" "Yes, of course. Say"-this impulsively in my ear-"she's the sweetest girl alive." "From what I saw just now," said I, "I should say that you were quite competent to pass on Rosie's flavor.

You took at least two tastes." "I don't care if you did see," said Dickie. "Suppose you can keep a secret? We're en--" "You young scamp!" I exclaimed.

Visions of an ambitious and angry mother came to me with abrupt vividness. "You don't mean to tell me that you two--" "Yep, we are. But no one is to know of it until I've graduated.