say somethin' or write somethin' because you've
been gashed, just as pa says that Shakespeare wrote his wonderfulest
plays and sonnets because he'd lost a woman. And sometimes I think I'm
goin' to write something. I keep hearin' music all the time, and I try
to write words down, but they don't mean anything; they are silly; so I
tear 'em up."

[Illustration: La Belle Dame sans Merci]

So Mitch went on and he worried me. And I says: "Mitch, I'm goin' to say
somethin' to you! Do you like me as much as you used to?"

"Every bit," says he. "Why?"

"Because," says I, "you don't always act the same. And besides, you keep
goin' with Charley King and George Heigold--and--and--"

"And what?" says Mitch.

"And--I was afraid you liked 'em better'n me."

"Why," says Mitch, "them two boys is just grave diggers compared to
you--or Rosencrantz and Guildenstern--while you are Horatio all the
time."

He explained to me what he meant by this, which was that in "Hamlet,"
Hamlet talked to grave diggers and to two men named Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern, without givin' a snap for 'em compared to Horatio.

Then I said, "I'm goin' out to the farm to-morrow. School will begin in
about three weeks. I'm goin' out on my pony, and you can ride behind.
And you'd better come. We'll have a lot of fun, and my uncle is goin' to
take me campin' to Blue Lake." So Mitch said he'd go; and after a bit he
began to repeat something he'd committed to memory. He was settin' in
the grass, lookin' up at me, and his voice was so wonderful and sweet,
sayin' these words:

O, what can ail thee, knight at arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

O, what can ail thee, knight at arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

"I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful, a faery's child.
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

"I saw pale kings and warriors too,
Pale princes, death pale were they all.
They said 'La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall.'"

Mitch was goin' on with this when we heard some boys whistle. It was
Charley King and George Heigold. They called Mitch to the fence and
talked. Then Mitch called back and said, "I'm goin', Skeet--come for
me--what time?"

"I'll be up about seven," I said.

And Mitch climbed over the fence, and w