“That was neatly said,” said my friend Annabel Lee. “But let me tell you, when the world grows soft, I will grow hard—hard as nails.”
“Then let the world stay hard,” I said—“hard and bitter as wormwood, if it will, so that you come indeed thus friendly to me through these gray clouds.”
“That, too, was very neat,” said my friend Annabel Lee; “but mostly it goes to show that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. What literature is more literature than the proverbs? What is a bird in the hand worth?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“Two in the bush,” said I.
“Where does charity begin?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“At home,” said I.
“What does it cover?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“A multitude of sins,” said I.
“What’s a miss as good as?” said my friend Annabel Lee.