“Oh, goody-cute!” cried Miss Pratt.  “Here’s big Bruvva Josie-Joe!” And she lifted her little dog close to Mr. Bullitt’s face, guiding one of Flopit’s paws with her fingers.  “Stroke big Bruvva Josie-Joe’s pint teeks, darlin’ Flopit.” (Josie-Joe’s pink cheeks were indicated by the expression “pint teeks,” evidently, for her accompanying action was to pass Flopit’s paw lightly over those glowing surfaces.) “’At’s nice!” she remarked.  “Stroke him gently, p’eshus Flopit, an’ nen we’ll coax him to make pitty singin’ for us, like us did yestiday.”

She turned to William.

“Coax him to make pitty singin’?  I love his voice—­I’m dest crazy over it.  Isn’t oo?”

William’s passion for Mr. Bullitt’s voice appeared to be under control.  He laughed coldly, almost harshly.  “Him sing?” he said.  “Has he been tryin’ to sing around here?  I wonder the family didn’t call for the police!”

It was to be seen that Mr. Bullitt did not relish the sally.  “Well, they will,” he retorted, “if you ever spring one o’ your solos on ’em!” And turning to Miss Pratt, he laughed loudly and bitterly.  “You ought to hear Silly Bill sing—­some time when you don’t mind goin’ to bed sick for a couple o’ days!”

Symptoms of truculence at once became alarmingly pronounced on both sides.  William was naturally incensed, and as for Mr. Bullitt, he had endured a great deal from William every evening since Miss Pratt’s arrival.  William’s evening clothes were hard enough for both Mr. Watson and Mr. Bullitt to bear, without any additional insolence on the part of the wearer.  Big Bruvva Josie-Joe took a step toward his enemy and breathed audibly.

“Let’s all sing,” the tactful Miss Pratt proposed, hastily.  “Come on, May and Cousin Johnnie-Jump-Up,” she called to Miss Parcher and Mr. Watson.  “Singin’-school, dirls an’ boys!  Singin’-school!  Ding, ding!  Singin’-school bell’s a-wingin’!”

The diversion was successful.  Miss Parcher and Mr. Watson joined the other group with alacrity, and the five young people were presently seated close together upon the steps of the porch, sending their voices out upon the air and up to Mr. Parcher’s window in the song they found loveliest that summer.

Miss Pratt carried the air.  William also carried it part of the time and hunted for it the rest of the time, though never in silence.  Miss Parcher “sang alto,” Mr. Bullitt “sang bass,” and Mr. Watson “sang tenor”—­that is, he sang as high as possible, often making the top sound of a chord and always repeating the last phrase of each line before the others finished it.  The melody was a little too sweet, possibly; while the singers thought so highly of the words that Mr. Parcher missed not one, especially as the vocal rivalry between Josie-Joe and Ickle Boy Baxter incited each of them to prevent Miss Pratt from hearing the other.

William sang loudest of all; Mr. Parcher had at no time any difficulty in recognizing his voice.