down at Gillian prone on the steps.

"You are here for no other purpose," said Joscelyn, "than to make them
listen that will not. I would not have you think we desire to listen."

"I think nothing but that you are the prey of circumstances," said
Martin, "constrained like flowers to bear witness to that which is
against all nature."

"What do you mean by that?" said Joscelyn. "Flowers are nature itself."

"So men have agreed," replied Martin, "yet who but men have compelled
them repeatedly to assert such unnaturalnesses as that foxes wear
gloves and cuckoos shoes? Out on the pretty fibbers!"

"Please do not be angry with the flowers," said Joan.

"How could I be?" said Martin. "The flowers must always be forgiven,
because their inconsistencies lie always at men's doors. Besides, who
does not love fairy-tales?"

Then Martin kicked his heels against the tree and sang idly:

When cuckoos fly in shoes
And foxes run in gloves,
Then butterflies won't go in twos
And boys will leave their loves.

"A silly song," said Joscelyn.

Martin: If you say so. For my part I can never tell the difference
between silliness and sense.

Jane: Then how can a good song be told from a bad? You must go by
something.

Martin: I go by the sound. But since Mistress Joscelyn pronounces my
song silly, I can only suppose she has seen cuckoos flying in shoes.

Joscelyn: You are always supposing nonsense. Who ever heard of cuckoos
flying in shoes?

Jane: Or of foxes running in gloves?

Joan: Or of butterflies going in ones?

Martin: Or of boys--

Joscelyn: I have frequently seen butterflies going in ones, foolish
Joan. And the argument was not against butterflies, but cuckoos.

Martin: And their shoes. Please, dear Mistress Joan, do not look so
downcast, nor you, dear Mistress Joscelyn, so vexed. Let us see if we
cannot turn a more sensible song upon this theme.

And he sang--

Cuckoo Shoes aren't cuckoos' shoes,
They're shoes which cuckoos never don;
And cuckoo nests aren't cuckoos' nests,
But other birds' for a moment gone;
And nothing that the cuckoo has
But he does make a mock upon.
For even when the cuckoo sings
He only says what isn't true--
When happy lovers first swore oaths
An artful cuckoo called and flew,
Yes! and when lovers weep like dew
The teasing cuckoo laughs Cuckoo!
What need for tears? Cuckoo, cuckoo!

As Martin ended, Gillian raised herself upon an elb