The rascal was walking with her.”
Now, will you not take these lines and these ideas and finish the poem?[1] I shall never be able to do it.
Guest. Ah! Those Sibylline leaves should have blown into the hands of a Dobson. But we’ll try at restoring the lost passages.
Host. The experiment may lead to great things. I almost think I see a new volume, with the title, “Collaborative Verses,” etc. And now choose whether you will go for a drive to Green Village or to the Black Meadows.
A Gentle Voice of Deprecation. Oh! don’t take her to Green Village! There isn’t anything remarkable there. She will like the Black Meadows much more.
VIEW FROM A WINDOW IN THE TOWER.
Guest. Yes, there might be adventures in such a region. And I want to put in a plea to be taken to that sylvan road where you saw the original sign of the Squirrel Inn.
Host. Well, it shall be to the Black Meadows, and so, on!
[1] MISS JANE, SIR CUPID, AND I.