IS he foreign ?" "You've got me, Jill," retorted the man, with a laughing grimace.
"Heaven only knows what he is--I don't.

What he SAID was Latin; I do happen to know that.

Still"-- he turned to the boy ironically--"of course you know the translation of that," he said.
"Oh, yes.

'I count no hours but unclouded ones'-- and I liked that.

'T was on a sundial, you know; and I'M going to be a sundial, and not count, the hours I don't like--while I'm pulling up weeds, and hoeing potatoes, and picking up stones, and all that.