“Exactly. Now we’ll take papa to see it, and then we’ll fit it up as a retreat. Won’t it be charming? We’ll call it the Lone Stump.”
“Oh, I like that; it makes me shiver!” cried Polly. “I’m going to write an ode to it at once. Ahem! It shall begin—let me see—
“O lonely tree,
What cruel ‘he’
Did lay thee low?
Tell us the facts;
Did cruel axe
Abuse thee so?”
“Sublime! Second verse,” said Bell slowly, with pauses between the lines:—
“Or did a gopher,
The wicked loafer,
Gnaw at thy base,
And, doing so,
Contrive to go,
And leave no trace?”
“Oh dear!” sighed Margery; “if you will do it, wait a minute.
“O toadstools white,
Pray give us light
Upon the question.
Did gopher gnaw,
And live in awe
Of indigestion?”
“Good!” continued Bell:—
“Or did a man
Malicious plan
The good tree’s ruin,
And leave it so
Convenient low,
A seat for Bruin?
For travelling grizzlies, you know. We may go there and see a hungry creature making a stump-speech, while an admiring audience of grasshoppers and tarantulas seat themselves in a circle on the toadstools.”