"Then perhaps his own daughter may have his ear for a moment or two." Yolanda laughed at Twonette's display of ill-temper.
"Well, uncle, since I must tell my own tale, I will begin," said Yolanda, blushing.

"I want you to go to The Mitre and ask a friend--two friends--of yours here to supper this evening.

I have waited a weary time for you to give this invitation, and I will not wait another hour, nay, not another minute.

We have a fat peacock that longs to be killed; it is so fat that it is tired of life.

We have three pheasants that will die of grief if they are not baked at once.