I dared not tell him Margery can do him too, making his speeches in the shovel hat we found in an old old hat-box near Bass's Straits, and a pair of old black gloves of Grandmamma's.
When he went away he patted my head, and said Margery and I must come to tea with him some day, and he would show us wonderful things in his microscope, and if we were very good, a plant that eats meat.
"But most flowers thrive by 'eating the air,' as the Irish say, and you're one of 'em, Miss Grace.

Do ye hear?
You're not to bury yourself in this attic in the holidays.

Run out in the garden, and play with your friends the Sunflowers, and remember what I've told you about their going to sleep and setting you a good example.

It's as true as Gospel, and there's many a rough old gardener besides Dr.Brown will tell you that flowers gathered in the morning last longer than those gathered in the evening, because those are fresh after a night's nap, and these are tired and want to rest, and not to be taken into parlours, and kept awake with candles.

Good-bye, little Michaelmas Goose!" And away he went, clomping down-stairs, but not a bit like Jael.
When bed-time came I was a good deal tired; but after I got into bed I kept my candle alight for a time, hoping Jael would bring the Rushlight and put it on the floor near Margery's bed, as I had asked her to do.