ulling it up
and chewing it. When I came back, however, Alice had nearly brought him
out of his vexation, and was soothing him by telling him how soon we
should all be ninety.

As we sat under the willow-tree and ate the cherries (fair, for Alice
shared them out), we played at being ninety. Nettie complained that she
had a bone in her old back and it made her hobble, and Alice sang a song
in an old woman's way, but it was very pretty, and we were all merry. At
least I don't know about merry exactly, but all comfortable.

There was a most tremendous lot of cherries and Alice always had with
her some neat little bag or box or case, to hold things. In it, that
night, was a tiny wine-glass. So Alice and Nettie said they would make
some cherry-wine to drink our love at parting.

[Illustration: There was a most tremendous lot of cherries.]

Each of us had a glassful, and it was delicious, and each of us drank
the toast, "Our love at parting." The Colonel drank his wine last, and
it got into my head directly that it got into his directly. Anyhow
his eyes rolled immediately after he had turned the glass upside down,
and he took me on one side and proposed in a hoarse whisper that we
should "Cut 'em out still."

"How did he mean?" I asked my lawless friend.

"Cut our Brides out," said the Colonel, "and then cut our way, without
going down a single turning, Bang to the Spanish Main!"

We might have tried it, though I didn't think it would answer; only we
looked round and saw that there was nothing but moonlight under the
willow-tree, and that our pretty, pretty wives were gone. We burst out
crying. The Colonel gave in second, and came to first; but he gave in
strong.

We were ashamed of our red eyes, and hung about for half an hour to
whiten them. Likewise a piece of chalk round the rims, I doing the
Colonel's, and he mine, but afterwards found in the bedroom
looking-glass not natural, besides inflammation. Our conversation turned
on being ninety. The Colonel told me he had a pair of boots that wanted
soleing and heeling but he thought it hardly worth while to mention it
to his father, as he himself should so soon be ninety, when he thought
shoes would be more convenient. The Colonel also told me with his hand
upon his hip that he felt himself already getting on in life, and
turning rheumatic. And I told him the same. And when they said at our
house at supper (they are always bothering about something) that I
stooped, I