And longed for something pretty, my moments to engage.
It struck me that some pleasant chat would restore a cheerful tone,
And rising with a sigh (for I, musing, sat alone),
I gathered up my sewing and quickly took my way,
Where it always wears an aspect bright, despite a rainy day.
But scarcely had I entered, ere there fell, distinct and clear,
The sound of cutting pages upon my wondering ear;
There sat my quiet brother, this dismal afternoon,
With my number in his hand, as I perceived full soon.
I asked, "Is that 'Littell' you have?" but I knew only too well