LILY. No, indeed. I can't think why ants are always so tiresome,
when one tries to help them! They were carrying bits of stick, as
fast as they could, through a piece of grass; and pulling and
pushing, SO hard; and tumbling over and over,--it made one quite
pity them; so I took some of the bits of stick, and carried them
forward a little, where I thought they wanted to put them; but
instead of being pleased, they left them directly, and ran about
looking quite angry and frightened; and at last ever so many of
them got up my sleeves, and bit me all over, and I had to come
away.
L. I couldn't think what you were about. I saw your French grammar
lying on the grass behind you, and thought perhaps you had gone to
ask the ants to hear you a French verb.
ISABEL. Ah! but you didn't, though!
L. Why not, Isabel? I knew, well enough, Lily couldn't learn that
verb by herself.
ISABEL. No; but the ants couldn't help her.