What's more, I've done a bit of a chorus.

Look--" The pariah took a dirty bit of paper from the breast of her gown.

"It goes, 'Oh Love unconquered in battle,' and it's simply splend_if_erous.

Miss Quincey--when you like anything very much--or any_body_--it doesn't matter which--do you turn red all over?
Do you have creeps all down your back?
And do you feel it just here ?" The child clapped her yellow claw to Miss Quincey's heart.

"You _do_, you do, Miss Quincey; I can see it go thump, I can feel it go thud!" She gazed into the teacher's face, and again the power of divination was upon her.
"Laura!" Miss Quincey gasped; for the Head had been looming in their neighbourhood, a deadly peril, and now she was sweeping down on them, smiling a dangerous smile.
"Miss Quincey, I hope you've been making that child work," said she and passed on.
"I _say_! She didn't see my verses, did she?
You _won't_ let on that I wrote them ?" "You'll never write verses," said Miss Quincey, deftly improving a bad occasion, "if you don't understand arithmetic.