by evening he
was whirling the rope three times under his feet that glanced against
each other in mid-air like the knife and the steel. And the girls
clapped their hands because they couldn't help it, and Joan said
breathlessly:

"How quick you are! it took me ten days to do that."

And Martin answered breathlessly, "How quick you were! it took me ten
years."

"Are you ever honest about anything, Master Pippin?" said Joscelyn
petulantly.

"Three times a day," said Martin, "I am honestly hungry."

So they had supper.

Supper done, they clustered as usual about the story-telling tree, and
Martin looked inquiringly from Jane to Joscelyn and from Joscelyn to
Jane. And Joscelyn's expression was one of uncontrolled indifference,
and Jane's expression was one of bridled excitement. So Martin ignored
Joscelyn and asked Jane what she was thinking about.

"A great number of things, Master Pippin," said she. "There is always
so much to think about."

"Is there?" said Martin.

"Oh, surely you know there is. How could you tell stories else?"

"I never think when I tell stories," said Martin. "I give them a push
and let them swing."

"Oh but," said Jane, "it is very dangerous to speak without thinking.
One might say anything."

"One does," agreed Martin, "and then anything happens. But people who
think before speaking often end by saying nothing. And so nothing
happens."

"Perhaps it's as well," said Joyce slyly.

"Yet the world must go round, Mistress Joyce. And swings were made to
swing. Do you think, Mistress Jane, if you sat in the swing I should
think twice, or even once, before giving it a push?"

Jane considered this, and then said gravely, "I think, Master Pippin,
you would have to think at least once before pushing the swing
to-night; because it isn't there."

"What a wise little milkmaid you are," said Martin, looking about for
the skipping-ropes.

"Yes," said Jessica, "Jane is wiser than any of us. She is extremely
wise. I wonder you hadn't noticed it."

"Oh, but I had," said Martin earnestly, fixing the swinging ropes to
their places. "There, Mistress Jane, let me help you in, and I will
give you a push."

He offered her his hand respectfully, and Jane took it saying, "I don't
like swinging very high."

"I will think before I push," said Martin. And when she was settled,
with her skirts in order and her little feet tucked back, he rocked the
swing so gently that not an apple fell nor a milkmai