jolly harper
man; and Sir Roger and Sir Charles paid their forfeits without another
word.

"Then the jolly harper man returned the king's horse to the royal
owner: and who ever heard of such a thing as a king breaking his
promise? Not the jolly harper man, you may be sure."

"Is the story a true one?" asked Tommy Toby.

"The story, as I heard it, was acknowledged to be considerably
embellished; and I have tried to make it as attractive as possible.
You should always remember this, that a good historic story gathers
color by time. The stories of Faust, Macbeth, King Lear, William Tell,
Robert the Devil, and many others I might name, have but meagre facts
for a starting point."

"I know a story of Nottingham, that I think as funny as that," said
Tommy. "It is about the Wise Men of Gotham."

"We will hear it when we go to Nottingham," said Master Lewis. "I
think we will go there at once, after an excursion to the English
Lakes."

The next morning George Howe and Leander Towle left the party for
Birmingham, London, and Paris, as their means would not admit of their
making easy zigzag journeys through England, in the way that Master
Lewis had planned for the other boys. They agreed to meet Master Lewis
and their companions in London, on their return from Paris, at which
time they would have completed their tour, and would be obliged to
leave for home before the others made their journey through Normandy.

Ernest Wynn, as we have said, was very fond of old English and
Scottish ballads, and he never lost any good opportunity to hear a new
song.

While the party were talking over their plans for visiting English
places, the sound of a piano in an adjoining room fell upon Ernest's
ear.

He left his companions, and, going into the open room from which the
music came, listened attentively to the playing.

"Do you sing?" asked Ernest of the player, who was a pleasant-faced
little miss about ten or twelve years of age.

"Sometimes."

"I like music. Will you not sing for me?"

"If I can. What would you have me sing?"

"Oh, something about Carlisle: something that I would not hear at
home."

"Where is your home?"

"In America."

"In America! What, so far? Perhaps you would like to hear 'Mona's
Waters?'"

"Yes," said Ernest.

The song was very winningly sung.

"Now perhaps you would like to hear 'When first I came to merry
Carlisle'?"

Ernest smiled.

"It doesn't mean you at all. It was a girl who lost