"Loch nonsense!" said Kate, rather bluntly. "Did you never hear of
the Lochs, the Lakes, in Scotland?"

"Loch Lomond, Loch Katrine, Loch Awe, Loch Ness?--But I don't do my
geography out of doors!"

"'Tisn't geography; 'tis the 'The Lady of the Lake.'"

"Is that a new game?"

"Dear me! did you never read 'The Lady of the Lake?'--Sir Walter
Scott's poem -


'The summer dawn's reflected hue--'"


"Oh! I've learnt that in my extracts; but I never did my poetry task
out of doors!"

"'Tisn't a task--'tis beautiful poetry! Don't you like poetry better
than anything?"

"I like it better than all my other lessons, when it is not very long
and hard."

Kate felt that her last speech would have brought Armyn and Charlie
down on her for affectation, and that it was not strictly true that
she liked poetry better than anything, for a game at romps, and a
very amusing story, were still better things; so she did not exclaim