"Meanwhile," quoth Dick, "we have got to meet the rest of our day's
journey; so out into the street and down to the strand! Will you
come a turn with us, neighbour? Our friend is greedy of your
stories."

"I will go as far as Oxford with you," said he; "I want a book or two
out of the Bodleian Library. I suppose you will sleep in the old
city?"

"No," said Dick, "we are going higher up; the hay is waiting us
there, you know."

Morsom nodded, and we all went into the street together, and got into
the boat a little above the town bridge. But just as Dick was
getting the sculls into the rowlocks, the bows of another boat came
thrusting through the low arch. Even at first sight it was a gay
little craft indeed--bright green, and painted over with elegantly
drawn flowers. As it cleared the arch, a figure as bright and gay-
clad as the boat rose up in it; a slim girl dressed in light blue
silk that fluttered in the draughty wind of the bridge. I thought I
knew the figure, and sure enough, as she turned her head to us, and
showed her beautiful face, I saw with joy that it was none other than
the fairy godmother from the abundant garden on Runnymede--Ellen, to
wit.

We all stopped to receive her. Dick rose in the boat and cried out a
genial good morrow; I tried to be as genial as Dick, but failed;
Clara waved a delicate hand to her; and Morsom nodded and looked on
with interest. As to Ellen, the beautiful brown of her face was