"It doesn't say he didn't have dleams. He had dleams, I tell you; I know he had. Muts nicer dleams van Jophez."
"Let's ask Meg; she'll know."
Jan gave a sigh of relief. The children had not noticed her, and Meg had a fertile mind.
The wheelbarrows were trundled across the lawn and paused in front of Meg, while a lively duet demanded simultaneously:
| { | "Did little Mophez have dleams?" |
| "Didn't deah littoo Mophez have dleams?" |
When Meg had disentangled the questions and each child sat down in a wheelbarrow at her feet, she remarked judicially: "Well, there's nothing said about little Moses' dreams, certainly; but I should think it's quite likely the poor baby did have dreams."
"What sort of dleams? Nicer van sheaves and sings, wasn't they?"
"I should think," Meg said thoughtfully, "that he dreamed he must cry very quietly lest the Egyptians should hear him."
"Deah littoo Mophez ... and what nelse?"
Meg was tempted and fell. It was very easy for her to invent "dleams" for "deah littoo Mophez" lying in his bulrush ark among the flags at the river's edge. And, wholly regardless