When order was restored, Phil and Felix brought from the closet a large
clothes-basket, piled full of neatly tied-up parcels of all sizes, which
they placed beside Nora. Fee then made a sign to Phil. "Begin!" he
whispered. Phil struck an attitude, with his hand on his heart, and
began, "Fair Queen!" then stopped, looked astonished, put his hand to
his forehead, gazed at the floor and the ceiling, then burst out with:--
"When these you see,
Fair maid, remember we;
As we've remembered you,
And given you your due."
"_That_ isn't what you were to say, you goose!" exclaimed Felix,
wrathfully. "That isn't your speech!"
"Don't talk to me about your old set speeches, when a man can rise to
an occasion like _that!_" remarked Phil, loftily, straightening up and
throwing back the lapels of his coat with a great air. "_Poetry!_--d'ye
mind that, Mr. Wegge? The genuine article, and at a moment's notice! At
last I've struck my vocation."
Of course we laughed uproariously; we were in the mood for it, and
would have laughed if some one had held up a finger at us.
Felix then made his speech, expressing our love and wishes for many,
many (I believe there were six manys) happy returns of Nora's birthday,
and he began to hand her her presents, reading out the inscription on
each as he did so, she opening them.
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