The other children like it broken down to them, but Mhor pleads for 'the real words.' He likes the swing and majesty of them....
I was reading them Kipling's story, _Servants of the Queen_, the other day.

You know where it makes the oxen speak of the walls of the city falling, 'and the dust went up as though many cattle were coming home.' I happened to look up, and there was Mhor with lamps lit in those wonderful green eyes of his, gazing at me.

He said, 'I like that bit.
It's a nice bit.

I think it should be at the end of a sad story.' And he uses words well himself, have you noticed?
The other day he came and thrust a dead field-mouse into my hand.

I squealed and dropped it, and he said, 'Afraid?
And of such a calm little gentleman ?'" Pamela asked if Mhor's behaviour was good.
"Only fair," said pretty Miss Elspeth.