“Often the cockloft is empty in those whom Nature has built many storeys high,” says quaint old Fuller.
“Long and lazy,” says the proverb.
“Divinely tall,” says Tennyson.
Now in thought go over the tall girls whom you have known. Perhaps they were not unlike the tall girls known to me.
Cicely—by herself called Thithily—is one of these. She has a little head atop of a long body, and when she laughs, which she does much, displays to view two rows of foolishly small teeth. Cicely laughs to keep herself from crying, for she has a very hard time of it.
Poor?
No. She has everything that money can buy, but lacks a thing that money cannot buy.
Muriel is the poor long girl known to me.
Muriel’s wail is, There is so much of me to dress.
When last I saw Muriel, her boots were down at heel, and to shamefacedness she added—shamefootedness.