WHEN the story was finished the Story People did not applaud; they felt sorry for poor Philip who had repented so bitterly.
Mary Frances felt sad, and sorry, too; as she did every time she heard the story, for she had often heard it before.
“How Americans love their country!” said the Story King. “They must love it as much as we love our island!”
“Indeed, they do love it,” answered Mary Frances patriotically. “I think it’s the greatest big country in all the world!”
The Story People smiled and clapped their hands at this speech, for they admire loyalty wherever shown.
“Yes, it is,” said the Story Queen, “and we think our island is the greatest little country in all the world.”
“So it is! Indeed, it is! I love it next to my own!” cried Mary Frances; and the Story People applauded again.
“There is a little poem about the Stars and Stripes that is very popular in America,” said the Story Lady, smiling. “Now that the stories are finished for the day, perhaps our guest will recite it for us.”
Mary Frances blushed, and then rose in her place and recited:
[C] From the “Trail to Boyland,” by Wilbur D. Nesbit, Copyright 1904. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company.
As Mary Frances sat down, the Story People clapped their hands enthusiastically; and the Ready Writer handed her her copies of the stories for the day. The copy of the poem which he had made, he kept for themselves.
As Mary Frances and the Story Lady were going out, the Story Queen stopped them and said:
“We shall expect you both to dinner to-night—just a little family party, you know.”
“Oh, thank you, that will be delightful,” both replied.
Mary Frances thought ruefully of her best dress hanging uselessly in the closet at home and wished she had it. “But it’s no use wishing,” she thought. “It’s all so unexpected.”
However, with the help of the Story Lady, she was arrayed for the occasion, and when she saw herself in the mirror she said, “There must be two of us; that doesn’t look like me.”
But it was she. So when they left their apartments and went downstairs into the dining-hall, she was in very high spirits.
Mary Frances had eaten many dinners, but never one like that. Yet, strange to say, she doesn’t remember what she ate. But she does remember how kind and friendly the Story King and Queen were, and how they plied her with questions about her own country. She thinks, perhaps, she bragged a little too much in telling of its wonders, but she excuses herself to herself, thinking, “Well, my country is worth bragging about, I’m sure.” During a lull in the conversation, Mary Frances asked the King, “Won’t you tell me where all the stories come from?”
“With pleasure,” he replied. “They come from all countries. The world is full of people who are doing brave and noble deeds, and when we hear of such deeds, we have them written down and pass them on.”
“Of course,” he added, “there are other people who are doing cowardly and selfish things, but we don’t bother with them, except to punish them as we did the pirate. We see to it that no good story is ever lost; that is why we were so concerned about the lost story.”
“You can see,” said the Queen, “that it keeps us pretty busy.”
“Indeed, it must,” returned Mary Frances. “I think it’s very kind of you to let me visit you.”
“Dear child,” said the Queen, “we shall make a story about it—several stories——”
“Yes, delightful stories,” interrupted the Story Lady, “and I shall tell them! Oh, yes, I shall tell them!”