At the stern order the buzz ceased , and fifty pairs of blue , black , gray , and brown eyes were obediently fixed upon his awful countenance . `` Miss March , come to the desk . '' Amy rose to comply with outward composure , but a secret fear oppressed her , for the limes weighed upon her conscience . `` Bring with you the limes you have in your desk , '' was the unexpected command which arrested her before she got out of her seat . `` Do n't take all . '' whispered her neighbor , a young lady of great presence of mind . Amy hastily shook out half a dozen and laid the rest down before Mr. Davis , feeling that any man possessing a human heart would relent when that delicious perfume met his nose . Unfortunately , Mr. Davis particularly detested the odor of the fashionable pickle , and disgust added to his wrath . `` Is that all ? '' `` Not quite , '' stammered Amy . `` Bring the rest immediately . '' With a despairing glance at her set , she obeyed . `` You are sure there are no more ? '' `` I never lie , sir . '' `` So I see . Now take these disgusting things two by two , and throw them out of the window . '' There was a simultaneous sigh , which created quite a little gust , as the last hope fled , and the treat was ravished from their longing lips . Scarlet with shame and anger , Amy went to and fro six dreadful times , and as each doomed couple , looking oh , so plump and juicy , fell from her reluctant hands , a shout from the street completed the anguish of the girls , for it told them that their feast was being exulted over by the little Irish children , who were their sworn foes . This -- this was too much . All flashed indignant or appealing glances at the inexorable Davis , and one passionate lime lover burst into tears .
As Amy returned from her last trip , Mr. XXXXX gave a portentous `` Hem ! ''
Amy Davis Irish Mr. fro heart limes seat set sigh