1911 · PDF PAGE 1
For Her Namesake
…I Skip to?’ Dora, diving daintily, Creeps out. ‘To the woodland! Shall I find Crowtoe, Violet, jessamine! I'll bind Garlands Fancy I'm a princess. Where Go to? Persia, China, Finistere? Far lands!’ Pity Dora! Only one Daisy Did she find. The sulking sun Slept still. Dora stamped her foot. Aurora Lazy Stirred not. Hush! A footstep. Dora Kept still.
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