the wardrobe, thinking to herself of certain passages in Wordsworth's
most beautiful ode, in which he has described the play of children,


"As if their whole vocation
Were endless imitation."


Truly they had got hold here of strange


"Fragments from their dream of human life."


Where COULD the children have picked up the original of such absurd
nonsense?

Aunt Judy had no time to make it out, for now the mincing voices
began again, and she sat listening.

"Have YOU had no curious adventures with your maids, ma'am?" inquires
No. 5 of No. 4.

No. 5 makes an attempt at a bewitching grin as he speaks, fanning
himself with a fan which he has had in his hand all the time he was
telling his story.

"Well, ladies," replied No. 4, only just able to compose herself to
talk, "I don't think I HAVE been quite as fortunate as yourselves in
having so many extraordinary things to tell. My servants have been