“Ho, I can do better than that,” boasted Walter.
“Jessie had a little crow
As black as any sloe
And everywhere that Jessie went
The crow was sure to go.”
“What is a sloe?” asked Jessie.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Walter. “Ask Max. He is the walking dictionary.”
“It is a kind of plum, I believe,” Max told them.
“I never saw a plum as black as Ebon is,” said Jessie, stroking the shining feathers of the bird who had flown down and was sitting on her wrist.
“And I suppose you never saw a green rose, but I have,” returned Max.