"You _must_ listen!" said the child, sternly. "First place, it's
beautiful: and besides, it's very rude not to listen when people
reads. And you ought _not_ to be rude, Imogen!" After which short
lecture, Star turned to her book again,--a great book it was, lying
open on the little pink calico lap,--and went on reading, in her clear
childish voice:
"'Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moony sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green:'
Do you know what a fairy is, Imogen?" asked Star, looking up again
suddenly.
But this time it was very evident that Imogen (who was, in truth,
a large white cow, with a bell round her neck) was paying no attention
whatever to the reading; for she had fairly turned her back, and was
leisurely cropping the short grass, swaying her tail in a comfortable
and reflective manner the while.
Star sprang to her feet, and seizing the delinquent's horns, shook
them with all her might.
"How dare you turn your back when I am reading?" she cried. "I'm just
ashamed of you! You're a disgrace to me, Imogen.
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