“In a hammock I swing,
My feet hanging over;
'Neath Love's bright wing,
In a hammock I swing,
Loves come and they bring
A truth to discover,
In a hammock I swing,
My feet hanging over.
“That is the first stanza. There are six, and they tell the story of the picture. I will copy them into your album, if you like.”
“Will you? That will be so nice, if you will. The only thing is, I haven't an album.”
“Haven't you? I'll get you one. I'll send you one from London.”
Sally asked him to explain the triolets, and very loyally she strove to understand.
“Ah, I see a thing when I am told, but I never can understand poetry or pictures until they are explained to me.”
Mollified, Frank thought of going upstairs to fetch the copy book in which he wrote such things, but speaking out of an unperceived association of ideas, he said: “What a clever girl your sister is. I had once a long talk with her about pictures and poetry, and I was surprised to find how well she talked. She understands everything.”
“Maggie is a clever girl; I know she is far cleverer than I am; but if you knew her as well as I do, you would find she did not understand all you think she understands.”
“How do you mean?”
“Maggie's cleverness lies in being able to pretend she understands what she knows nothing about; I have often caught her out.”