"Eh? What is it?" answered the voice of Captain Barker, from his new tulip-bed, across the garden.
"What thing is this?"
"A nymph." Captain Runacles guessed by this that the four-year-old's question had reference to one of the figure-heads disposed along the hedge.
"What is a nymph?"
"A sort of girl."
"I don't like this sort of girl. She's got no legs."
"Come over here and look at this tulip."
"There's a much better sort of girl next door," Tristram continued, unheeding.
"What do you know about her?" sharply inquired his guardian.
"Oh, I see her often at the top window, and sometimes out walking. Nurse says we're not to speak, so we put out our tongues at each other."