Isabella forbid me to speak of it." Here are her reflections on a
pineapple: "I think the price of a pine-apple is very dear: it is a
whole bright goulden guinea, that might have sustained a poor family."
Here is a new vernal simile: "The hedges are sprouting like chicks from
the eggs when they are newly hatched or, as the vulgar say, _clacked_."
"Doctor Swift's works are very funny; I got some of them by heart."
"Moreheads sermons are I hear much praised, but I never read sermons of
any kind; but I read novelettes and my Bible, and I never forget it, or
my prayers." Bravo, Marjorie!

She seems now, when still about six, to have broken out into song:--

"EPHIBOL (EPIGRAM OR EPITAPH,--WHO KNOWS WHICH?) ON MY DEAR LOVE,
ISABELLA.

"Here lies sweet Isabel in bed,
With a night-cap on her head;
Her skin is soft, her face is fair,
And she has very pretty hair:
She and I in bed lies nice,
And undisturbed by rats or mice.
She is disgusted with Mr. Worgan,
Though he plays upon the organ.
Her nails are neat, her teeth are white;
Her eyes are very, very bright.
In a conspicuous town she lives,
And to the poor her money gives.
Here ends sweet Isabella's story,
And may it be much to her glory!"