GOLDEN RULE NUMBER VIII
Be a good listener.
He.—And here we are again in your bower—your bower of roses and carnations. It is always summer here, for there are always flowers. You wear them, too, as another would wear her jewels.
"She went by dale, and she went by down,
With a single rose in her hair."
She.—This is as I like my flowers—around me and about me. Conservatories have no charm for me, for one cannot live in a conservatory. I like my roses, where, as I sit and write, I can inhale their fragrance, and see their wondrous beauty. What is more beautiful than a rose?
He.—Wouldn't "The Woman with the Rose" make a nice title for a poem?
She.—You are really lacking in originality. You never would have thought of it in the world if "The Man with the Hoe" had not suggested it.
He.—Oh! I agree with you that I am not original, and that the title was suggested; but not, as you think, by "The Man with the Hoe."