THE TALK OF THE HOUSE.
No second bidding was needed, and the little fellows, running through the gateway, found themselves in a courtyard in which stood a high tower, whose stones looked like transparent green glass, and the lines between them as if raspberry-jam had been used for lime.
After looking at it for a few moments, Jaques exclaimed, “I wonder what the tower is for?”
“Nothing at all at present, thank you; I’m not ’ungry,” replied a forte voice, in somewhat stony accents.
“Why, it can speak,” cried Jaques, quite astonished.
“Of course I can. If ’ouses may talk, why should not I?”
“But houses don’t talk,” said Ranulf.
BIGGARLY ARGUMENTS.
“’Ouses don’t talk, don’t they? Ha, ha, ha!” shouted the tower, till its sides shook so that the boys were afraid it would tumble, and its tiers would have fallen, only they had not the cheek to run down. “Ha, ha, ha, ha! So you think ’ouses can’t talk. Now I’ve ’eard it said they talk too much. Look at the ’Ouse of Commons, and you’ll see that you never made a Biggar mistake; it seems to do nothing but talk.”