"Never," she said emphatically, "in that form; do, please tell me the answer."
So I told her,—When it ith a door! Upon which she—she went off again in hystewics. I—I—I never did see such a girl for laughing. I know it's a good widdle, but I didn't think it would have such an effect as that.
By the way, Sloper told me afterwards that he thought he had heard the widdle before, somewhere, but it was put in a different way. He said it was: When ith a door not a door?—and the answer, When it ith ajar!
I—I've been thinking over the matter lately, and though I dare thay it—d-don't much matter which way the question is put, still—pwaps the last f-form is the betht. It—it seems to me to wead better. What do you think?
Now I weckomember, I made thuch a jolly widdle the other day on the Ethplanade. I thaw a fellah with a big New—Newfoundland dog, and he inthpired me—the dog, you know, not the fellah,—he wath a lunatic. I'm keeping the widdle, but I don't mind telling you.
Why does a dog waggle hith tail? Give it up? I think motht fellahs will give that up!
You thee, the dog waggles hith tail becauth the dog's stwonger than the tail. If he wath n't, the tail would waggle the dog!
Ye-th,—that 'th what I call a widdle. If I can only wecollect him, I thall athtonish those two girls thome of these days.