If you shall swim on a crystal lake--Phoebe told me what a genius you have for getting them out of the muddy pond; she was sitting beside it when I called, her hand in that of a straw-coloured person named Gladwish, and the ground in her vicinity completely strewn with votive offerings.

You shall splash your silver sea with an ivory wand; your hens shall have suburban cottages, each with its garden; their perches shall be of satin-wood and their water dishes of mother-of-pearl.

You shall be the Goose Girl and I will be the Swan Herd--simply to be near you--for I hate live poultry.

Dost like the picture?
It's a little like Claude Melnotte's, I confess.

The fact is I am not quite sane; talking with you after a fortnight of the tabbies at the Hydro is like quaffing inebriating vodka after Miffin's Food! May I come to-morrow ?" _Bailiffs Daughter_ (hedging).--"I shall be rather busy; the Crossed Minorca hen comes off to-morrow." _True Love_.--"Oh, never mind! I'll take her off to-night when I escort you to the farm; then she'll get a day's advantage." _Bailiff's Daughter_.--"And rob fourteen prospective chicks of a mother; nay, lose the chicks themselves?
Never!" _True Love_.--"So long as you are a Goose Girl, does it make any difference whose you are?
Is it any more agreeable to be Mrs.Heaven's Goose Girl than mine ?" _Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Ah! but in one case the term of service is limited; in the other, permanent." _True Love_.--"But in the one case you are the slave of the employer, in the other the employer of the slave.