"Of course," I went on, "each to his taste, but personally I prefer
one with less 'gymnastic' and more 'stay -at-home, qualities."

The hunting-crop was raised threateningly.

"Mr. Selwyn?" I inquired in a conversational tone.

The hunting-crop hesitated and was lowered.

"Well, sir?"

"Ah, I thought so," I said, bowing; "permit me to trespass upon
your generosity to the extent of a match - or, say, a couple."

Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw the
points of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then,
without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away.
He had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I
heard him stop and swear savagely - I did not need to look to learn
the reason - I admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived,
for a moment later came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a
shout and the Imp's voice upraised in dire distress.

"Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called.

I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made that
promise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I should be
called upon to fulfil it. Still, a promise is a promise: so I
sighed, and picking up the joint of my fishing rod, clambered up
the bank. Glancing in the direction of the cries, I beheld Robin