'I've been here all the time,' said the Phoenix, yawning politely
behind its claw. 'If you wanted me you should have recited the ode
of invocation; it's seven thousand lines long, and written in very
pure and beautiful Greek.'
'Couldn't you tell it us in English?' asked Anthea.
'It's rather long, isn't it?' said Jane, jumping the Lamb on her
knee.
'Couldn't you make a short English version, like Tate and Brady?'
'Oh, come along, do,' said Robert, holding out his hand. 'Come
along, good old Phoenix.'
'Good old BEAUTIFUL Phoenix,' it corrected shyly.
'Good old BEAUTIFUL Phoenix, then. Come along, come along,' said
Robert, impatiently, with his hand still held out.
The Phoenix fluttered at once on to his wrist.
'This amiable youth,' it said to the others, 'has miraculously been
able to put the whole meaning of the seven thousand lines of Greek
invocation into one English hexameter--a little misplaced some of
the words--but
'Oh, come along, come along, good old beautiful Phoenix!'
'Not perfect, I admit--but not bad for a boy of his age.'
'Well, now then,' said Robert, stepping back on to the carpet with
the golden Phoenix on his wrist.
'You look like the king's falconer,' said Jane, sitting down on the
carpet with the baby on her lap.
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