“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself. Their beautifully proportioned figures and rather over-displayed shoulders attracted the notice of Austin, who inquired of the chief turnkey "whether he should stand by them during the interview?" "Oh! never mind them," said Mrs.
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