And her head niddle-noddled at every word,
And seem'd so happy, a Paradise Bird
Had nidificated upon it.
XLVI.
And Sir Jacob the Father strutted and bow'd,
And smiled to himself, and laugh'd aloud,
To think of his heiress and daughter—
And then in his pockets he made a grope,
And then, in the fulness of joy and hope,
Seem'd washing his hands with invisible soap