when he telephoned, or where the message came from. She looked at the clock againonly five minutes since the bell rang-twenty-five since he had left the house, but she felt that a great deal had occurred in them. She threw herself on the sofa, and for a few minutes tried to make herself unconscious of everything about her, of everything that might happen; her nerves and brain needed some rest from the tension of the last hour. "If only Joe Parker would come," she moaned presently; and dragging herself to the looking-glass stood critically examining her face. Haggard and old, with lines about the mouth and eyes,-and what a difference it made when her hair was pushed back from her temples. Joe mustn't see her like this and he would be here directly. She cooled her eyes with her hands and ar ranged her hair; she knew that the well-cut skirt and the dainty muslin blouse she wore were becoming, if she could rid her face of its careworn expression she could gather courage for the interview with him. Thank goodness, he was coming to supper. Then she remembered Wendern's instructions and went to the dining-room again. She managed to put on a haughty manner-or what she meant to be one while she made the alterations he had indicated, and explained to the servants that Mr Wendern had just telephoned them, and that if he were not back she would take his place at the table. They were astounded. "Well, I never did," Rogers said when she had gone. "I shouldn't wonder if she plays first fiddle here: she will if we don't look out, or it looks very much like it." (To be continued.) A NIGHT IN SHERWOOD. BY ALFRED NOYES. The scene is a glade in Sherwood Forest, showing on the right the mouth of the outlaws' cave, and on the left a small log-hut. It is about sunset. The giant figure of LITTLE JOHN comes out of the cave, singing. LITTLE JOHN. When Spring comes back to England Round the merry moonlit world She goes the greenwood way. [He stops and calls in stentorian tones.] Much! Much! Much! Where has he vanished now? [Enter MUCH, a dwarf-like figure, carrying a large MUCH. Hush, hush, child, here I am! And here's our fairy feather-beds, ha! ha! Come, praise me, praise me, for a thoughtful parent. LITTLE JOHN. Take care the fern-seed that the fairies use MUCH. [Looking up at him impudently.] It would take Our big barn full of fern-seed, I misdoubt, To make thee walk invisible, Little John, My trim Tom Thumb! And, in this troublous age We gentlemen of the moon, could only hunt Copyright, 1912, by Alfred Noyes in the United States of America. Invisible, there's many and many of us With thumbs lopped off, eyes gutted and legs pruned, Slick, like poor pollarded pear-trees, would be lying Happy and whole this day beneath the boughs. LITTLE JOHN. Invisible? Ay, but what would Jenny say When such a ghostly midge, as Much would make, MUCH. Don't joke about it! It is a serious matter. Jenny takes The smallness of her Much sorely to heart! (Ground in our mill) is better than no bread, As me! You'd scarce believe, now, half the nostrums, That wench has made me gulp, in the vain hope She'll take the reins of the world in hand. She'll stop In Sherwood, I shall stalk a giant yet, LITTLE JOHN. Into the cave, then, with thy feather-bed. We shall have guests anon, O merry times, Baron and knight and abbot, all that ride Through Sherwood, all shall come and dine with him When they have paid their toll! Old Much is there Growling at thy delay. MUCH. [Going towards the cave.] My poor dear father. Now, there's a sad thing too. He is so ashamed Of his descendants. Being exceeding shy, He could not help it. Why, for some nine years At father, like the great Destroying Angel In the stained window: straight the milk boiled over, The cat ran, baby squalled and mother screeched. Old Bramble asks my father-what-what-what He meant-he meant-he meant! You should have seen My father's hopeless face! Lord, how he blushed In his exceeding shyness! How he blushed! 'Tis a hard business when a parent looks Askance upon his offspring. [Exit into the cave. LITTLE JOHN. Skip, you chatterer! Here comes our master. [Enter ROBIN HOOD.] Master, why! what's this? This was a cloth-yard shaft that tore thy coat! ROBIN HOOD. O, ay, they barked my shoulder, devil take 'em! St Nicholas, my lad, they're on the watch. LITTLE JOHN. What didst thou there? They're on the watch, i̇' faith! And whether his ears or soul be worth the more ROBIN. Well, I went and tried to shoot A grey goose-wing through Lady Marian's casement. LITTLE JOHN. O, ay, and a pink nosegay tied beneath it. ROBIN. No-no That's nothing; but-I wished to send her warning. I could not creep much closer; but I swear I think the castle is in the hands of John. Not hers-I am sure—not hers! LITTLE JOHN. Hist! Who comes here? [He seizes his bow and stands ready to shoot.] ROBIN. Stay, man, it is the fool! Thank God, the fool, [Enter SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF, a slender figure in SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF. Good fool! Should I be bad, sir, if I chanced to bring A prophet blown before them. Well, this evening |