And it was the same with phrases. She would drag home a whole
phrase, if it had a grand sound, and play it six nights and two
matinees, and explain it a new way every time—which she had to, for
all she cared for was the phrase; she wasn't interested in what it
meant, and knew those dogs hadn't wit enough to catch her, anyway.
Yes, she was a daisy! She got so she wasn't afraid of anything, she
had such confidence in the ignorance of those creatures. She even
brought anecdotes that she had heard the family and the
dinner-guests laugh and shout over; and as a rule she got the nub
of one chestnut hitched onto another chestnut, where, of course, it
didn't fit and hadn't any point; and when she delivered the nub she
fell over and rolled on the floor and laughed and barked in the
most insane way, while I could see that she was wondering to
herself why it didn't seem as funny as it did when she first heard
it. But no harm was done; the others rolled and barked too,
privately ashamed of themselves for not seeing the point, and never
suspecting that the fault was not with them and there wasn't any to
see.