are very tattered. But you are the first who has cared whether or no
my heart should break since my lovely Gillian was locked with six
keys into her father's Well-House, and six young milkmaids, sworn
virgins and man-haters all, to keep the keys."

"The thirsty," said Martin, "make little of padlocks when within a
rope's length of water."

"But, sir," continued the youth earnestly, "this Well-House is set
in the midst of an Apple-Orchard enclosed in a hawthorn hedge full
six feet high, and no entrance thereto but one small green wicket,
bolted on the inner side."

"Indeed?" said Martin.

"And worse to come. The length of the hedge there is a great
duckpond, nine yards broad, and three wild ducks swimming on it.
Alas!" he cried, "I shall never see my lovely girl again!"

"Love is a mighty power," said Martin Pippin, "but there are
doubtless things it cannot do."

"I ask so little," sighed Robin Rue. "Only to send her a primrose
for her hair-band, and have again whatever flower she wears there
now."

"Would this really content you?" said Martin Pippin.

"I would then consent to live," swore Robin Rue, "long enough at all
events to make an end of my sowing."