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"But I ain't got to the wonders none as yet, reemonstrates the Colonel, who spunks up a bit peevish for him. 'An' from the frequent way wherein I'm interrupted, it don't look much like I will. Goin' sailin' away into darklin' space with that ball of enchanted kyarpet-rags, that ain't the sooper-nacheral part at all!
"When ye were sleepin' on your pillows, Dreamt ye aught o' our puir fellows Darklin' as they face the billows, A' to fill our woven willows," as I reached those lines, my voice trembled so's to shake the tears out of my eyes, and Jim Jerdan took it up himself and sung it through for me to words of his own invention.
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