“Great Scott, girl!” gasped Chet. “That almost twisted your tongue out of kilter.”

“Any more?” queried Lance, who likewise had wonderingly listened to this display of talent. “Ah-ha! I see Nellie just bursting with one.” 88

“Yes. I have a good one,” admitted the doctor’s daughter. “Hear it:

“‘A right-handed writer named Wright
In writing “write” always wrote “rite.”
Where he meant to write “write,”
If he’d written “write” right,
Wright would not have wrought rot writing “rite.’”

Now! let’s hear you say that fast?”

This certainly was a teaser and the boys admitted it. Finally somebody shouted for Mother Wit. “Come on, Laura! where are you?” demanded Bobby. “Are you going to let us mere ‘amachoors’ beat you? Give us a limerick.”

Mother Wit was expected to keep up with the other wits, that was sure. So she obliged with:

“‘A smart young fisher named Fischer,
Fished for fish from the edge of a fissure.
A fish, with a grin,
Pulled the fisherman in.
Now they’re fishing the fissure for Fischer.’

“And now, boys, while we have been entertaining you,” concluded Laura, “you have gotten behind the Duchess again.” 89

“That’s right, Lance,” said Chet. “Give her some more power.”