it beats me how you known 'em,' said Hobden.

'Aha! There's more under my hat besides hair?' Tom laughed and stretched
himself. 'When I've seen these two young folk home, we'll make a night
of old days, Ralph, with passin' old tales--eh? An' where might you
live?' he said, gravely, to Dan. 'An' do you think your Pa 'ud give me a
drink for takin' you there, Missy?'

They giggled so at this that they had to run out. Tom picked them both
up, set one on each broad shoulder, and tramped across the ferny pasture
where the cows puffed milky puffs at them in the moonlight.

'Oh, Puck! Puck! I guessed you right from when you talked about the
salt. How could you ever do it?' Una cried, swinging along delighted.

'Do what?' he said, and climbed the stile by the pollard oak.

'Pretend to be Tom Shoesmith,' said Dan, and they ducked to avoid the
two little ashes that grow by the bridge over the brook. Tom was almost
running.

'Yes. That's my name, Mus' Dan,' he said, hurrying over the silent
shining lawn, where a rabbit sat by the big white-thorn near the croquet
ground. 'Here you be.' He strode into the old kitchen yard, and slid
them down as Ellen came to ask questions.

'I'm helping in Mus' Spray's oast-house,' he said to her. 'No, I'm no
foreigner. I knowed this country 'fore your mother was born; an'--yes,
it's dry work oastin', Miss. Thank you.'

Ellen went to get a jug, and the children went in--magicked once more by
Oak, Ash, and Thorn!

A THREE-PART SONG

I'm just in love with all these three,
The Weald an' the Marsh an' the Down countrie;
Nor I don't know which I love the most,
The Weald or the Marsh or the white chalk coast!

I've buried my heart in a ferny hill,
Twix' a liddle low shaw an' a great high gill.
Oh, hop-bine yaller an' woodsmoke blue,
I reckon you'll keep her middling true!

I've loosed my mind for to out an' run
On a Marsh that was old when Kings begun:
Oh, Romney level an' Brenzett reeds,
I reckon you know what my mind needs!

I've given my soul to the Southdown grass,
An' sheep-bells tinkled where you pass.
Oh, Firle an' Ditchling an' sails at sea,
I reckon you keep my soul for me!

THE TREASURE AND THE LAW

SONG OF THE FIFTH RIVER

When first by Eden Tree
The Four Great Rivers ran,
To each was appointed a Man
Her Prince and Ruler to be.

But after this was ordained,
(The ancient legends tell),
There came dark Israel,
For whom no River remained.

Then He T