"But she came alive again," said Evadne, the youngest, in extenuation.
"And the wolf was killed," we ventured in defence of our old story.
"Still," persisted Drusilla, "you couldn't call it encouraging."
"Then in the other case," went on Claude thoughtfully, "considering that she had been left in sole charge of the house and had no business to go out and leave it to the mercy of burglars, what moral are we to draw from the fact that she married a Prince and lived happily ever afterwards?"
"Most of them have that sort of moral," said Drusilla. "And they are every one of them devoid of humour, except of the most obvious kind—no subtlety."
"When I was your age," said poor Louisa gently, "I used to laugh very heartily over the adventures of Tom Thumb."
Claude seemed touched. "There are some capital situations in certain of them," he conceded, "which might be quite effectively treated."
"How?" we asked weakly.
It was Drusilla, the most alarming of the children, who finally undertook to sketch us out an example.
After a short meditation, "Something like this," she said. "The situation, of course, you have met with before, but as remodelled you might call it—