three o'clock in the afternoon
I have a vivid recollection of riding in hot haste on a rake to tell the King -- not in proper fairy fashion that the skies were fallen , but that Lord Turkey of Henhouse was dead . John , I remember , always carried some fern seed in his trouser-pocket . He said it made him invisible -- a delusion I loyally supported . It seems to me the sun always shone in those days , the time was ever three o'clock in the afternoon , and faery lay just adown the road ! It has just occurred to me , and it is an awesome thought , that you must converse every day , and all day , in the German language . I believe I have forgotten all I ever knew of German , though it is n't so very long ago since I wrestled in tears and confused darkness of mind with that uncouth tongue . Do n't forget your native tongue , and do n't dare write me a letter in German , or , like the Editor of _ The Spectator _ , I shall say , `` This correspondence must now cease ! ''