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"S-S-Sorry your mother is from mome me dears quite counted on finding her rat ome. Said to myself at lunch must go and see Mrs Rendell s'afternoon such a kind woman full of sympathy for rothers! Hurried out and thought as had come so far might come in and see Miss Rendell as servant said at tome and disengaged!"
When dinner was over and Môme lay snoring before the blaze for the October nights are often chilly in Finistere Lys curled up in the chimney corner with her embroidery, and gave me a swift glance from under her dropping lashes. "You look like a schoolgirl, Lys," I said teasingly. "I don't believe you are sixteen yet." She pushed back her heavy burnished hair thoughtfully.
"'T was brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe." "It seems rather pretty," commented the wise Alice, "but it's rather hard to understand! Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas only I don't exactly know what they are!"
The distant cactus danced grotesquely and black spots flitted between her and the molten iron over which, her fancy said they traveled. Suddenly she laughed crazily: "'Twas brillig, and the slythy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe!" DeWitt laughed hoarsely. "That's just the way it looks to me, Rhoda. But you're just as crazy as I am."
Meillard was raising his hands; solemnly he addressed the natives: "'Twas brillig and the slithy toves were whooping it up in the Malemute Saloon, and the kid that handled the music box did gyre and gimble in the wabe, and back of the bar in a solo game all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgabe the lady that's known as Lou."
Her exquisite figure and lovely face were the incarnation of youth and grace; her curling hair glistened like threaded gold. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the spoiled puppy Môme come bounding cheerfully alongside, oblivious of our horses' heels. Our road swung close to the cliffs. A filthy cormorant rose from the black rocks and flapped heavily across our path.
Le Bihan was calling to me from the edge of the pit above, and I handed the belt plate and buttons to the men and climbed the side of the excavation. "Well," said I, trying to prevent Môme from leaping up and licking my face as I emerged from the pit, "I suppose you know what these bones are. What are you going to do with them?"
When a child says to its mother, "Me go mome," it is doing its best to speak English, and its remark should be received without worrying comment; but when a mother says to her child, "Me go mome," she is simply wasting an opportunity of teaching her child its mother-tongue.
Well, I will leave him for the nonce; in fact, I will leave him until I come to The Young Pole, who wore black puttees and spoke of The Zulu as "mon ami" the Young Pole whose troubles I will recount in connection with the second Delectable Mountain Itself. "Ta mome. Alice." and when I had read it sticking his map up into my face, The Fighting Sheeney said with emphasis: "No travailler moi.
It was empty. "Where has she gone?" I said, looking hard at Môme, who had followed me. "Oh! I see you don't know. Don't pretend you do. Come off that lounge! Do you think Lys wants tan-colored hairs all over her lounge?"
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