Part 2 (2/2)

”Now you sing a song,” said Phil. ”Do you know it?” And without waiting for Susan's shake of the head he burst loudly into tune:

”They marched the animals, two by two, One wide river to cross- The elephant and the kangaroo, One wide river to cross.”

”But you see the kangaroo won't stand up, so I have to put the tiger with the elephant. Then you sing it this way”

And he took up the chant again:

”They marched the animals, two by two, One wide river to cross- The elephant and the tigeroo, One wide river to cross.”

”Do you like it?” asked Phil, looking up into Susan's face with a smile.

Susan nodded with an energy that set her curls a-bobbing.

”There's Grandmother in the window,” said she. ”Let's go in and see her.”

Grandmother put down her knitting to welcome Philip, and bade Susan pa.s.s the cinnamon cookies.

”I know my mother likes me to eat them,” announced Phil, silent until he had disposed of his cooky, ”because she wants me to grow fat.”

”Perhaps she would like you to take another one,” said Grandmother, hiding a smile and pa.s.sing the plate again.

”I was sick,” went on Phil, whose tongue seemed loosened by the second cinnamon cooky. ”I was sick so long I nearly all melted away. My father calls me Spindle Shanks. But I'm going to grow big and fat now-if I eat enough,” he added with his eyes on the plate of cakes.

Each with a cooky in hand and an extra one in Phil's pocket, Susan escorted her new friend down Featherbed Lane in the hope that Grandfather would invite them into the office.

He was writing busily, but when Susan and Phil, clinging to the window-sill, all but pressed their noses against the pane, Grandfather put down his pen and motioned them to come in.

”How do you do, sir,” said Grandfather as Phil shook hands in true manly fas.h.i.+on. ”So you are my next-door neighbor. I hope we shall be good friends.”

”Oh, he will, Grandfather,” said Susan, speaking up for her new acquaintance, who, standing speechless, allowed his gaze to travel from the high boots up to the quizzical brown eyes looking so pleasantly down upon him.

”Well, neighbor, we shall have to fatten you up a little, I'm thinking,”

remarked Grandfather heartily, observing thin little Phil in his turn.

”Yes,” agreed Phil, finding his tongue at last and taking a nibble of his cooky as if to begin the fattening process at once.

”I mean to eat and grow fat. My mother wants me to; she said so. My father calls me Spindle Shanks,” he added, as if rather proud of his new name.

”Is that so?” said Grandfather with interest. ”Now I shouldn't have thought of calling you that. But I might have called you 'Pint o'

Peanuts' if any one had asked me.”

Phil and Susan went off into a fit of laughter at this funny name, and when they recovered Grandfather remarked gravely:

”The best thing to do in a case like this is to build up an appet.i.te.

Susan, you go with Philip up to his house and ask his mother if she will let him take a little drive with Parson Drew and you and me over to Green Valley. Be sure to tell her it's to work up an appet.i.te. Then cut across and tell Grandmother we are going to the Green Valley Court-House and that we shall be home by five o'clock.”

Grandfather was forced to stand on the doorstep and call the last part of his directions after Susan. For at the first mention of a drive she had caught Phil's hand and started on a run up the driveway leading to his house.

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