"Unless we are to remain here for ever," said Martin, "I fear we must.
But for my part I am quite happy here. Are not you, Mistress Joscelyn?"

"Your questions are idle," said she. "You know very well that we cannot
escape a story."

"You see, Mistress Jennifer," said Martin. "Let us resign ourselves
therefore. And for your better diversion, please sit in the swing, and
when the story is tedious you will have a remedy at hand."

So saying, he put Jennifer on the seat and her hands on the ropes, and
the five other girls climbed into the tree, while he took the bough
that had become his own. And all provided themselves with apples.

"Begin," said Joscelyn.

"A story-teller," said Martin, "as much as any other craftsman, needs
his instruments, of which his auditors are the chief. And of these I
lack one." And he fixed his eyes of the weeper in the Well-House.

"You have six already," said Joscelyn. "The seventh you must acquire as
you proceed. So begin."

"Without the vital tool?" cried Martin. "As well might you bid Madam
Toad to spin flax without her distaff."

"What folly is this?" said Joscelyn. "Toads don't spin."

"Don't they?" said Martin, much astonished. "I thought they did. What
then is toadflax? Do the wildflowers not know?"

And still keeping his eyes fixed on Gillian he thrummed and sang--

Toad, toad, old toad,
What are you spinning?
Seven hanks of yellow flax
Into snow-white linen.
What will you do with it
Then, toad, pray?
Make shifts for seven brides
Against their wedding-day.
Suppose e'er a one of them
Refuses to be wed?
Then she shall not see the jewel
I wear in my head.

As he concluded, Gillian raised herself on her two elbows, and with her
chin on her palms gazed steadily over the duckpond.

Joscelyn: Why seven?

Martin: Is it not as good a number as another?

Jennifer: What is the jewel like in the toad's head, Master Pippin?

Martin: How can I say, Mistress Jennifer? There's but one way of
knowing, according to the song, and like a fool I refused it.

Jennifer: I wish I knew.

Martin: The way lies open to all.

Joscelyn: These are silly legends, Jennifer. It is as little likely
that there are jewels in toads' heads as that toads spin flax. But
Master Pippin pins his faith to any nonsense.

Martin: True, Mistress Joscelyn. My faith cries for elbow-room, and he
who pins his faith to common-sense is like to get a cramp in it.
Therefo