"Four feet at the most," she reported, as the pole found bottom.

"You must be sickenin' for somethin'.

Put out your tongue." "A child of imagination," observed Mr.Mortimer, who had followed her.
"Full fathom five thy father lies--" "'Ush!" cried Tilda.
"-- Of his bones are coral made.

Those are pearls that were his eyes--" The boy sat and looked up at the speaker, staring, shivering a little.
"You know?
You know too ?" he stammered.
"He knows nothin' about it," insisted Tilda.

"Please go away, Mr.
Mortimer ?" "A young Shakespearian?
This is indeed delightful! You shall have a part, sir.