Out of that hate was born a stern resolve--I would conquer my diffidence; I would prove to Fred Hencoop, and any other fellow like him, that I was as good as he was, and could at least equal him in the attractions of my sex. There was a pretty girl sitting quite near me. I had been introduced to her at the picnic. It seemed to me that she was eyeing me curiously, but I was mad enough at Fred to show him that I could be as cool as anybody, after I got used to it. I hemmed, wiped the perspiration from my face--caused now more by the needle than by the heat--and remarked, sitting stiff as a ramrod and smiling like an angel: "June is my favorite month, Miss Smith--is it yours? When I think of June I always think of strawberries and cream and ro-oh-oh-ses!" It was the needle. I had forgotten in the excitement of the subject and had moved. "_Is_ anything the matter?" Miss Smith tenderly inquired. "Nothing in the world, Miss Smith. I had a stitch in my side, but it is over now." "Stitches are very painful," she observed, sympathizingly. "I don't like to trouble you, Mr. Flutter, but I think, I believe, I guess you are sitting on my work. If you will rise, I will try and finish it before tea." No help for it, and I arose, at the same moment dexterously slipping my hand behind me and withdrawing the thorn in the flesh. "Oh, dear, where is my needle?" said the young lady, anxiously scrutinizing the crushed worsted-work. I gave it to her with a blush. She burst out laughing. "I don't wonder you had a stitch in your side," she remarked, shyly. "Hem!" observed Fred very loud, "do you feel sew-sew, John?" Just then Belle entered the parlor, looking as sweet as a pink, and wearing the sash I had given her. She bowed to me very coquettishly and announced tea. "Too bad!" continued Fred; "you have broken the thread of Mr. Flutter's discourse with Miss Smith. But I do not wish to inflict _needle_-less pain, so I will not betray him." "I hope Mr. Flutter is not in trouble again," said Belle quickly. "Oh, no. Fred is only trying to say something _sharp_," said I. "Come with me; I will take care of you, Mr. Flutter," said Belle, taking my arm and marching me out into the sitting-room, where a long table was heaped full of inviting eatables. She sat me down by her side, and I felt comparatively safe. But Fred and Miss Smith were just opposite and they disconcerted me. "Mr. Flutter," said the hostess when it came my turn, "will you have tea or coffee?" "Yes'm," said I. "Tea or coffee?" "If you please," said I. "_Which_?" whispered Belle. "Oh, excuse me; coffee, ma'am." "Cream and sugar, Mr. Flutter?" "I'm not particular which, Mrs. Jones." "Do you take _both_?" she persisted, with everybody at the table looking my way. "No, ma'am, only coffee," said I, my face the color of the beet-pickles. She finally passed me a cup, and, in my embarrassment, I immediately took a swallow and burnt my mouth.