It ought--" "Don't be a fool, sir! I mean in that poem of his from 'Ivy Leaves: or, Tendrils from Troy.'" "Beg pardon, sir, I'm sure.

Let me see--" Before he could recall it, Sophia finished the quotation, timidly.
"I think, papa, I can remember it:--" 'And thou, Quaint hostel! 'neath whose mould'ring gable ends In amber draught I slake my noonday thirst.

.

.' "Something like that, I think, papa." "Ah, to be sure: 'mould'ring gable ends,' a most accurate description.

It used to belong to--" and the Admiral plunged again into a flood of conversation.
"You must bring this Mr.Moggridge and introduce him," said Mrs.
Goodwyn-Sandys to Sam.