"Perhaps so," I nodded, "but 'foolish' is an adjective which in this instance should be an adverb and which we will proceed to make so by the suffix 'ly.' Thus instead of saying, I talk 'foolish,' you must say I talk 'foolishly'--" "So you do!" quoth she. "Then I will talk grammar instead, Diana. Pray give me your most careful attention. Yonder is a tree, which is a noun common; the tree is shady, which is an adjective qualifying the noun 'tree,' and casts its shade obliquely, which is an adverb governing the qualifying verb 'casts.'" Thus, as we walked, I proceeded to give her a definition of the various parts of speech with their relation one to another, and found her to be, on the whole, very quick and of a retentive memory. Encouraged thus, I plunged into my subject whole-heartedly and was discussing the difference between transitive and intransitive verbs when she checked me in full career by asking: "Have you a father and mother?" "Good heaven!" I exclaimed. "What has this to do with grammar?" "Well, but have you?" she persisted. "No," answered I; "they died before I can remember." "So did mine!" she nodded. "But you have friends?" "Yes." "Many?" "Three," I answered. "To be particular, one aunt and two uncles." "Rich folk, ain't they?" "Well, yes, I suppose they are. And allow me to point out that the word 'ain't' is becoming obsolete in polite conversation, giving place to 'are not' or to 'is not' as the case may be. Now, returning to our grammar--" And forthwith I began to decline for her benefit verbs regular and irregular, together with their tenses; I parsed and analysed simple sentences, explaining the just relation of Subject, Object and Predicate, while she watched me grave-eyed and listened to my grammatical _dicta_ with an attention that I found highly gratifying. Thus I dilated upon the beauties of our language, its wealth of metaphor and adjectival possibilities, its intricacies and pitfalls, until the sun was high and my throat parched. "There, Diana," I concluded, "here endeth our first lesson for the present. I trust you have not found me too discursive?" "Well," said she, knitting her black brows thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. It all sounds very--wonderful, but I don't understand a word of it." "Great heaven!" I ejaculated. "Why could you not say so before?" "I didn't like to interrupt you." "Here I have been talking for a good hour--" "Two hours," she nodded; "indeed, you're a wonderful talker!" "But all to no purpose it seems!" said I ruefully. "No," she answered, "it has helped to pass the time and I knows that a noun is a tree." "Oh, indeed!" quoth I. "And what more have you learned?" "That if you add to a verb it's an adverb, though both are much of a muchness, and an adjective is not like either, though they all has summat to do with a tree we passed a long time ago." At this I gasped and sinking down in a shady spot, fanned myself feebly with my hat.