dull in this orchard, with nothing to do except watch the changes of
the apple-trees, and meanwhile the farmstead lacks water and milk,
there being no entry to the well nor maids to milk the cows. Daily
comes Old Gillman to tell us how, from morning till night, he is
forced to drink cider and ale, and so the farm goes to rack and
ruin, and all because he has a lovesick daughter. What is your
remedy? He would give you gold and silver for it."

"I do not know if it can be bought," said the Gypsy, "I do not even
know if it exists. But when a maid broods too much on her own
love-tale, the like weapons only will vanquish her thoughts. Nothing
but a new love-tale will overcome her broodings, and where the case
is obstinate one only will not suffice. You say she has pined upon
her love six months. Let her be told six brand-new love-tales, tales
which no woman ever heard before, and I think she will be cured.
These counter-poisons will so work in her that little by little her
own case will be obliterated from her blood. But for my part I doubt
whether there be six untold love-tales left on earth, and if there
be I know not who keeps them buttoned under his jacket."

"Alas!" cried Joscelyn, "then we must stay here for ever until we
die."

"It looks very like it," said the Gypsy, "and my wares are a penny
apiece."

So saying she collected her moneys and withdrew, and for all I know
was never seen again by man, woman, or child.