Then he plumped down beside it , took off his hat , wiped his face , and settled back to listen to the sermon , just as if it was all a matter of course . When the service was over he hoisted his bag up again , marched out of church , and drove home . He could never understand why it made so much talk ; but he was known by the name of Oatmeal Frewen for years . '' Our laughter , as we separated , rang sweetly through the old orchard and across the far , dim meadows . Felicity and Cecily went into the house and Sara Ray and the Story Girl went home , but Peter decoyed me into the granary to ask advice . `` You know Felicity has a birthday next week , '' he said , `` and I want to write her an ode . '' `` A -- a what ? '' I gasped . `` An ode , '' repeated Peter , gravely . `` It 's poetry , you know . I 'll put it in Our Magazine . '' `` But you ca n't write poetry , Peter , '' I protested . `` I 'm going to try , '' said Peter stoutly . `` That is , if you think she wo n't be offended at me . '' `` She ought to feel flattered , '' I replied . `` You never can tell how she 'll take things , '' said Peter gloomily . `` Of course I ai n't going to sign my name , and if she ai n't pleased I wo n't tell her I wrote it . Do n't you let on . '' I promised I would n't and Peter went off with a light heart . He said he meant to write two lines every day till he got it done .
Cupid was playing his world-old tricks with others than poor XXXXX that spring .
Cecily Peter Ray church course day house ode things years