It would take Elsli such a time to embroider it." "That settles it, then," said Oscar, well pleased that his aunt found a decisive reason for rejecting another.

"Now, then, for the last, short and energetic:-- "'Freedom we shout! Freedom for all! Freedom for ever and aye! We will not yield till all chains fall, And tyrants are banished or die!' "Do you hear that, aunty ?" "Yes, my dear, I can't help hearing it, and it's very spirited, but it doesn't mean anything.

I don't know of any 'tyrants' that need to be banished or die, do you?
It isn't to be thought of.

Take the first, or, if you don't like that, choose another from the list." But Oscar was obstinate.

The first he wouldn't have, and he must somehow or other bring his aunt over to accept this one.
"But, aunty," he began in a tone of remonstrance, "there were tyrants once; don't you remember the poem about Dionysius, the tyrant?
And if there have been once, there may be again, and then this verse would be splendid; don't you think so ?" Before aunty could respond to this appeal, came a fearful pounding at the door, which put a stop to the discussion.