Lily. Oh, it was the ants who were busy, not I; I was only trying to help them a little.
L. And they wouldn't be helped, I suppose?
Lily. No, indeed. I can't think why ants are always so tiresome, when one tries to help them! They were carrying bits of stick, as fast as they could, through a piece of grass; and pulling and pushing, so hard; and tumbling over and over,—it made one quite pity them; so I took some of the bits of stick, and carried them forward a little, where I thought they wanted to put them; but instead of being pleased, they left them directly, and ran about looking quite angry and frightened; and at last ever so many of them got up my sleeves, and bit me all over, and I had to come away.
L. I couldn't think what you were about. I saw your French grammar lying on the grass behind you, and thought perhaps you had gone to ask the ants to hear you a French verb.
Isabel. Ah! but you didn't, though!
L. Why not, Isabel? I knew, well enough, Lily couldn't learn that verb by herself.
Isabel. No; but the ants couldn't help her.
L. Are you sure the ants could not have helped you, Lily?
Lily (thinking). I ought to have learned something from them, perhaps.
L. But none of them left their sticks to help you through the irregular verb?