—at least, there was enough ground for one, but nothing grew there except nettles and brick-bats and one elder-tree, and a poor old oak-tree that had seen better days. There was a hole in the fence, very convenient for going through in a hurry.
One morning there had been what old nurse called a 'set out' because Noël was writing some of his world-without-end poetry, and he had got as far as
'How beautiful the sun and moon
And all the stars appear!
They really are a long way off,
Although they look very near.
'I do not think that they are worlds,
But apples on a tree;
The angels pick them whenever they like,
But it is not so with me.
I wish I was a little angel-child
To gather stars for my tea,'
before Dicky found out that he was writing it on the blank leaf at the end of the Latin prize Dicky got at the Preparatory School.
Noël—for mysterious reasons unknown to Fame—is Alice's favourite brother, and of course she stood up for him, and said he didn't mean it.
And things were said on both sides, and the rest of us agreed with Dicky that Noël was old
