The sixth slip was a very brief one.
Word.—When?
Question.—Are you willing?
If I wasn't willing, I would tell you;
But when—Oh, dear, I can't!
"What an extraordinary rhyme!" began Clover; but Rose spied poor Mary blushing and looking distressed, and hastily interposed,—
"It's very good, I'm sure. I wish I'd written it. Go on, Katy."
So Katy went on.
Word.—Unfeeling.
Question.—Which would you rather do, or go fishing?
I don't feel up to fishing, or sich;
And so, if you please, I'd rather do—which?
"I don't seem to see the word in that poem," said Rose. "The distinguished author will please write another."
"The distinguished author" made no reply to this suggestion; but, after a minute or two, Esther Dearborn, "quite disinterestedly," as she stated, remarked that, after all, to "don't feel" was pretty much the same as unfeeling. There was a little chorus of groans at this, and Katy said she should certainly impose a fine if such dodges and evasions
