was made by Kit Marlow now at least fifty years ago. And the
milkmaid's mother sung an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter
Raleigh in his younger days. They were old-fashioned poetry, but
choicely good; I think much better than the strong lines that are
now in fashion in this critical age."


CHAPTER III

HOW CHILDE ROLAND AND ANOTHER CAME TO THE DARK TOWER

Dickson woke with a vague sense of irritation. As his recollections
took form they produced a very unpleasant picture of Mr. John Heritage.
The poet had loosened all his placid idols, so that they shook and
rattled in the niches where they had been erstwhile so secure.
Mr. McCunn had a mind of a singular candour, and was prepared most
honestly at all times to revise his views. But by this iconoclast
he had been only irritated and in no way convinced. "Sich poetry!"
he muttered to himself as he shivered in his bath (a daily cold tub
instead of his customary hot one on Saturday night being part of the
discipline of his holiday). "And yon blethers about the working-man!"
he ingeminated as he shaved. He breakfasted alone, having outstripped
even the fishermen, and as he ate he arrived at conclusions. He had
a great respect for youth, but a line must be drawn somewhere.
"The man's a child," he decided, "and not like to grow up. The way
he's besotted on everything daftlike, if it's only new. And he's
no rightly young either--speaks like an auld dominie, whiles.
And he's rather impident," he concluded, with memories of "Dogson."....
He was very clear that he never wanted to see him again; that was
the reason of his early breakfast. Having clarified his mind by