'Yes,' said Helen, 'he was very near enlisting, but it made his mother very unhappy, and Mrs. Staunton—'
'Went down upon her knees to beseech him to remain, and let her roast beef be food for him, not himself be food for powder,' said Rupert, 'never considering how glad the parish would be to get rid of him.'
'No,' said Helen, 'her powder became food for him; she made him under-gamekeeper.'
'Excellent, Helen, you shine to-night,' cried Elizabeth; 'such a bit of wit never was heard from you before.'
'Your poem is a proof that the best way of being original is to describe things as you actually see them,' said Anne.
'Is not mine original? I do not think it was taken from any book,' said Harriet, willing to pick up a little more praise.
'Not perhaps from any book,' said Elizabeth, with a very grave face; 'but I am afraid we must convict you of having borrowed from the mother of books, Oral tradition.'
'Oral tradition!' repeated Harriet, opening her mouth very wide.
'Yes,' said Elizabeth; 'for I cannot help imagining that the former part of your ode is a parody upon
"I'll tell you a story
About Jack A'Nory,
And now my story's begun;
I'll tell you another
About Jack and his brother,
And now my story is done."