"Oh, I mean the side they're most approachable. Now the Roman, you know, when he makes a joke you always want to laugh as though you were going to die."
"Does he make many jokes?" asked Lovely.
"Cracky, yes. Then there's one very important one he makes around Thanksgiving that every one watches for. I'll put you on, but you must be very careful."
"What? The same joke every year?" said Lovely.
"Regular. It's about Volturcius in Cæsar—the 'c' is soft, you know, but you have to pronounce it—Vol-turk-ious."
"Why so?"
"So the Roman can say, 'No-o, no-o, not even the near approach of Thanksgiving will justify such a pronunciation.' See? That's the cue to laugh until the tears wet the page. It's most important."
"What about the Doctor?"
"Easy, dead easy; just ask questions, side-path questions that'll lead him away from the lesson and give him a chance to discourse. Say—another thing, Lovely, don't go and buy anything in the village; let me do that for you."
"Thanks."