ey just
_scorned_ them.

One moonlight night Lady Patsy was sitting at her window and she
heard a whistle in the garden. When she peeped out carefully, there
stood Peter Piper waving his ragged cap at her, and he had his rope
ladder under his arm.

"Hello," he whispered as loud as he could. "Could you catch a bit
of rope if I threw it up to you?"

"Yes," she whispered back.

"Then catch this," he whispered again and he threw up the end of
a string and she caught it the first throw. It was fastened to the
rope ladder.

"Now pull," he said.

She pulled and pulled until the rope ladder reached her window and
then she fastened that to a hook under the sill and the first thing
that happened--just like lightning--was that Peter Piper ran up the
ladder and leaned over her window ledge.

"Will you marry me," he said. "I haven't anything to give you to
eat and I am as ragged as a scarecrow, but will you?"

[Transcriber's Note: See picture marry.jpg]

She clapped her little hands.

"I eat very little," she said. "And I would do without anything at
all, if I could live in your funny old shabby house."

"It is a ridiculous, tumbled-down old barn, isn't it?" he said.
"But every one of us is as nice as we can be. We are perfect
Turkish Delights. It's laughing that does it. Would you like to
come down the ladder and see what a jolly, shabby old hole the
place is?"

"Oh! do take me," said Lady Patsy.

So he helped her down the ladder and took her under the armchair
and into Racketty-Packetty House and Meg and Peg and Kilmanskeg
and Ridiklis and Gustibus all crowded round her and gave little
screams of joy at the sight of her.

They were afraid to kiss her at first, even though she was engaged
to Peter Piper. She was so pretty and her frock had so much lace on
it that they were afraid their old rags might spoil her. But she
did not care about her lace and flew at them and kissed and hugged
them every one.

"I have so wanted to come here," she said. "It's so dull at the
Castle I had to break my leg just to get a change. The Duchess sits
reading near the fire with her gold eye-glasses on her nose and
Lady Gwendolen plays haughtily on the harp and Lady Muriel coldly
listens to her, and Lady Doris is always laughing mockingly, and
Lord Hubert reads the newspaper with a high-bred air, and Lord
Francis writes letters to noblemen of his acquaintance, and Lord
Rupert glances over his love letters from ladies of title, in