OLIVER (opening his poetry book and saying it to himself). It was a summer evening--It was a summer evening--(He stops, refers to the book, and then goes on to himself) Old Kaspar's work was done. It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done--- _Enter GERALDINE--or JILL_. JILL. Where's Pin? OLIVER. Hallo, Jill. Gone off with Dearly Belovéd. Her momentary absence from the room should make no difference to your zeal, my dear Geraldine. And what are we studying this morning, dear child? (To himself) It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done. JILL (giggling). Is that Pin? OLIVER. Pin and Dearly Belovéd between them. She's a bit batey this morning. JILL (at her desk). And all my sums have done themselves wrong. (Hard at it with paper and pencil) What's nine times seven, Oliver? OLIVER. Fifty-six. Old Kaspar's work was done. Jolly well wish mine was. And he before his cottage door. Fat lot of good my learning this stuff if I'm going to be a sailor. I bet Beatty didn't mind what happened to rotten old Kaspar when he saw a German submarine. JILL. Six and carry five. Aunt Jane has sent for the doctor to look at my chest. OLIVER. What's the matter with your chest? JILL. I blew my nose rather loud at prayers this morning. OLIVER. I say, Jill, you _are_ going it! JILL. It wasn't my fault, Oliver. Aunt Jane turned over two pages at once and made me laugh, so I had to turn it into a blow. OLIVER. Bet you what you like she knew. JILL. Of course she did, and she'll tell the doctor, and he'll be as beastly as he can. What did she say to you for being late? OLIVER. I said somebody had bagged my sponge, and she wouldn't like me to come down to prayers all unsponged, and she said, "Excuses, Oliver, _always_ excuses! Leave me. I will see you later." Suppose that means I've got to go to bed this afternoon. Jill, if I do, be sporty and bring me up "Marooned in the Pacific." JILL. They'll lock the door. They always do. OLIVER. Then I shall jolly well go up for a handkerchief this morning, and shove it in the bed, just in case. Cavé--here's Pin. MISS PINNIGER _returns to find them full of zeal_. GOVERNESS (sitting down at her desk). Well, Oliver, have you learnt your piece of poetry? OLIVER (nervously). I--I think so, Miss Pinniger. GOVERNESS. Close the book, and stand up and say it. (Oliver takes a last despairing look, and stands up.) Well? OLIVER. It was a summer evening--- GOVERNESS. The title and the author first, Oliver. Everything in its proper order. OLIVER. Oh, I say, I didn't know I had to learn the title. JILL (in a whisper). After Blenheim. GOVERNESS. Geraldine, kindly attend to your own work. OLIVER. After Blenheim. It was a summer evening. GOVERNESS. After Blenheim, by Robert Southey. One of our greatest poets. OLIVER. After Blenheim, by Robert Southey, one of our greatest poets. It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done--er--Old Kaspar's work was done--er--work was done, er . . .