"
Patience suddenly leaned forward, her face all alight with interest.
"I love my love with an A," she said slowly, "because he's an--author."
Tom whistled. "Well, of all the uncanny young ones!"
"It's very simple," Patience said loftily.
"So it is, Imp," Tracy exclaimed; "I love him with an A, because he's
an--A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N!"
"I took him to the sign of The Apple Tree," Bell took up the thread.
"And fed him (mentally) on subjects--antedeluvian, or almost so,"
Hilary added.
"What _are_ you talking about?" Edna asked impatiently.
"Mr. Allen," Pauline told her.
"I saw him and Tom walking down the back lane the other night,"
Patience explained. Patience felt that she had won her right to belong
to the club now--they'd see she wasn't just a silly little girl.
"Father says he--I don't mean Tom--"
"We didn't suppose you did," Tracy laughed.
"Knows more history than any other man in the state; especially, the
history of the state."
"Mr. Allen!" Shirley exclaimed. "T. C. Allen! Why, father and I read
one of his books just the other week. It's mighty interesting. Does
he live in Winton?"
"He surely does," Bob grinned, "and every little while he comes up to
school and puts us through our paces.
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