hich seemed to have got into that root
somehow, and sent a thrill as of an electric shock, only much pleasanter,
right through his whole body, and even into the roots of his hair.

"When are you coming again?" whispered the sweet lips.

"Don't know," said the young soldier; "perhaps never."

"But you'll come and see--your mother?"

"O yes," answered Joe, "I shall come and see mother; but what's it matter
to thee, lassie?"

The lassie blushed, and Joe thought it a good opportunity to take hold of
her hand. I don't know why, but he did; and he was greatly surprised
that the hand did not run away.

"I think the Vicar likes you, Joe?"

"Do he?" and he kept drawing nearer and nearer, little by little, until
his other hand went clean round Polly Sweetlove's waist, and--well an owl
flew out of the tree at that moment, and drew off my attention; but
afterwards I saw that they both kept looking at the root of the tree, and
then Joe said;

"But you love th' baker, Polly?"

"No," whispered Polly; "no, no, never!"

"Now, look at that!" said Joe, recovering himself a little; "I always
thought you liked the baker."

"Never, Joe."

"Well then, why didn't you look at me?"

Polly blushed.

"Joe, they said you was so wild."

"Now, look at that," said Joe; "did you ever see me wild, Polly?"

"Never, Joe--I will say that."

"No, and you can ask my mother or Mrs. Bumpkin, or the Vicar, or anybody
else you like, Polly--."

"I shall go and see your mother," said Polly.

"Will you come to-morrow night?" asked Joe.

"If I can get away I will; but I must go
now--good-bye--good-bye--good----"

"Are you in a hurry, Polly."

"I must go, Joe--good--; but I will come to-morrow, as soon as dinner is
over--good--good--good-bye."

"And then----," but the Old Oak kept his counsel. Here I awoke.

* * * * *

"Well," cried my wife, "you have broken off abruptly."

"One can't help it," quoth I, rubbing my eyes. "I cannot help waking any
more than I can help going to sleep."

"Well, this would be a very pretty little courtship if true."

"Ah," I said, "if I have described all that I saw in my dream, you may
depend upon it it is true. But when I go to Southwood I will ask the Old
Oak, for we are the greatest friends imaginable, and he tells me
everything. He has known me ever since I was a child, and never sees me
but he enters into conversation."

"What about?"

"The past, present,