“Indeed, indeed is mine,” said Adverb, blandly.
“Pray, do not quarrel with him,” said the Judge; “let him have a few words to keep him quiet.”
“There is one thing,” said Dr. Verb, laughing, “no one would be in a hurry to steal Interjection’s words, for they are not worth it. Who could ever make a decent word out of oh! or fie! or pshaw! or ugh!”
“Laugh as you like, Dr. Verb,” cried Interjection, “my words can stand alone, and make sense all by themselves, and mean as much as a whole string of other words. For instance, when I say ‘Fie!’ that is as good as saying, ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself;’ and when I say ‘Ah!’ that means, ‘I see through all your fine airs and graces, Dr. Verb, and know all about you.’ Ha! ha! what do you say to that?” And Interjection once more took a turn over head and heels.
“Keep him quiet, will you,” said the Judge. “And now, gentlemen,” he continued, for the third time, “I hope we shall all be prepared for the great trial that is to take place this day week. The people of Schoolroom-shire are all invited to attend, and to bring their slates and pencils with them. You all, my nine Parts-of-Speech, will together make up a story which Serjeant Parsing will have in his hand. He will then carefully examine every word, and the children of Schoolroom-shire, who will have a place for each of you on their slates, will put down a mark to each one who deserves it. In the end, they will count up all the marks, and the Part-of-Speech who has the most will get—will get——”
Just at this moment, when every one was listening most anxiously to hear what the prize was to be, clouds of dust were observed arising from behind his lordship’s throne. In fact, the Critics, tired of doing nothing, had begun to turn out whole piles of mouldering old books, Murray’s Grammars, old dictionaries, and I know not what; and the venerable dust therefrom, getting into his lordship’s eyes, nose, and mouth, brought on such a violent fit of coughing and choking, that it was impossible to get another word from him. He did not then, nor has he since, informed his loving subjects what the prize was to be. Therefore, it is left to the children of Schoolroom-shire to decide. In examining the following story they must be both judge and jury, and decide not only which Part-of-Speech deserves the most marks, but also what is a fitting reward for the happy being who shall win the great prize of Grammar-land.
Serjeant Parsing’s Story for the Examination.
THE SAD FATE OF OUR SQUIRREL
Once, when I was walking in the garden, I found a young squirrel on the ground at the foot of a tall tree. It had fallen from the nest. I took the little soft warm creature in my hand, and I carried it carefully into the house. There we fed it with warm milk, and it quickly revived. It soon sat up, with its pretty curly tail over its back, and then it rubbed its nose with its paws. It seemed to look to me as if it knew me for a friend. When night came, I made a soft bed for it beside me, and it slept cosily. In the morning, I took it to my cousin. “It wants breakfast,” she said; “I will warm some milk for it in my doll’s saucepan.” So she boiled some milk in a little green saucepan, and we fed our pet. “Ah!” I cried, “is it ill? It is struggling as if it were in pain.” We tried to warm it, and we gave it another spoonful of milk; but, alas! the poor little creature gave a pitiful moan, and we soon saw that it was dead. The green paint on the doll’s saucepan was poisonous, and we had killed our little squirrel while it was lying in our arms.
