Thereby Hangs a Tale
"Well," said Finetta, "we met Humphrey, and talked to him."
"I think, if I may be allowed to say so, Finetta, that you are too fond of talking to grooms and keepers, and people of that class," said Miss Matilda, glancing at her brother, who, however, was once more immersed in judicial dreams--J.P., custos rotulorum, commission of the peace, etcetera.
"Tennyson used to hang with grooms and porters on bridges, and he's poet laureate; so why shouldn't I?" said Finetta, rebelliously.
"I don't think it's nice, though," said mamma. "Aunt Matty is quite right; you are not a child now, my dear."
"Oh, mamma, dear, it's only Fin's nonsense," said Tiny. "Humphrey is a very respectful, worthy young fellow, and he climbed up the big rocks down by Penreife for us, and got us some of those beautiful little aspleniums we couldn't reach."
"Yes, ma, dear," said Finetta; "and he says that the next time he writes to his old aunt in Wales, he'll tell her to