"It's not fair, guessing aloud in this way," said Sally Alsop. Sally always spoke for Amy, and Amy for Sally. "Voice and Echo" Rose called them: only, as she remarked, nobody could tell which was Echo and which Voice.
The next word was "Mrs. Nipson," and the question, "Do you like flowers?"
Do I like flowers? I will not write a sonnet,
Singing their beauty as a poet might do:
I just detest those on Aunt Nipson's bonnet,
Because they are like her,—all gray and blue,
Dusty and pinched, and fastened on askew!
And as for heaven's own buttercups and daisies,
I am not good enough to sing their praises.
Nobody knew who wrote this verse. Katy suspected Louisa, and Rose suspected Katy.
The sixth slip was a very brief one.
WORD.—When?
QUESTION.—Are you willing?
If I wasn't willing, I would tell you;
But when— Oh, dear, I can't!
"What an extraordinary rhyme!" began Clover, but Rose spied poor Mary blushing and looking distressed, and hastily interposed,—
"It's very good, I'm sure. I wish I'd written it. Go on, Katy."
So Katy went on.