Turned out to be, altogether too much for her;
One half she forgot, and she bungled the rest of it,
Though I finally managed to pick out the best of it.
She asked her companion, who stood in the lee of her,
For the wind spread her skirts to the bigness of three of her,
“Who sent these ships to the rescue of those,
Who have perilled their lives in these Northern snows?
Did he spring from the mob, the benevolent ‘masses,’
Or from the detestable ‘upper classes’?”
With a great deal more to the same effect,