"Why is it odd?" Valerie asked, stopping squarely in front of Betty, and
looking at her with round eyes.
"Oh, because we're acting exactly as if we believed in the old well,"
Betty said, looking a bit annoyed, yet keeping straight on toward the
wall.
"Well, of course we're not so silly as to _really_ and _truly_ believe
it could grant our wishes, but it's no harm to try," responded Valerie.
Betty laughed.
"Oh, we don't believe it all,
Yet we _must_ believe a little
We _b'lieve_ the water boils
When the steam comes from the _kittle_.
"It's dark inside the drum,
Yet we hear the drumming well,
But that we wished beside the wall
We'll never, never tell."
"Where did you hear those verses?" Valerie asked.
"That's a funny song my brother sings. I made the second verse to fit
to-day."
"Why, Betty Chase! Who'd think you could make poetry?" cried Valerie,
looking Betty over, as if it were the first time she had ever seen her.
Betty laughed gayly.
"I guess Mrs. Marvin would tell you it wasn't poetry. Don't you remember
she told us the other day that many people could write verses, but that
verses were not always _poetry_?"
"Well, all the same, I like the funny verses," Valerie said, "and here
we are at the wall again."
"And here's luck to us, and our wishing!" cried Betty.
She sprang up on the wall beside Valerie, and for a moment the two sat
thinking.
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