Joyce pretended to
struggle, and Jennifer had no fight in her at all, and Jessica really
tried, and Jane didn't like it because it was undignified and so rough.
But when Joscelyn's turn came to be fetched as she stood all alone on
her side deserted by her supporters, she put her hands behind her back,
and jumped over the handkerchief of her own accord, and walked up to
Martin and said, "All right, you've won." For when it comes to fetching
away it is a game that boys are better at than girls.

"In that case," said Martin, "it's time for Hide-and-Seek." And he sat
down on the swing and shut his eyes.

At the same moment the moon went behind a cloud.

And as he waited a light drop fell on Martin's cheek, and another, and
another, like the silent weeping of a girl; so that he couldn't help
opening his eyes quickly and looking by instinct toward the empty
Well-House. It was still empty, for wherever the girls had hidden
themselves, it was not there.

Then through the shadowed raining orchard a low voice called "Cuckoo!"
and "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" called another. And softly, clearly, laughingly,
mockingly, defiantly, teasingly, sweetly, caressingly, "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Cuckoo!" they called on every side. Martin stood up and stole among the
trees. At first he went quietly, but soon he ran and darted. And never
a girl could he find. For this after all is the game that girls are
better at than boys, and when it comes to hiding if they will not be
found they will not. And if they will they will. But their will was not
for Martin Pippin. Through the pattering moonless orchard he hunted
them in vain; and the place was full of slipping shadows and whispers.
And every now and then those cuckooing milkmaids called him, sometimes
at a distance, sometimes at his very ear. But he could not catch a
single one.

And now it seemed to Martin that there were more of these elusive
shadows than he could have believed, and whisperings that needed
accounting for.

For once he heard somebody whisper, "Oh, you were right! the world IS
flat--for six months it's been as flat as a pancake!" And a second
voice whispered, "Then I was wrong! for pancakes are round." And Martin
said to himself, "That's Joyce!" but the first voice he couldn't
recognize. And then followed a sound that was not exactly a whisper,
yet not exactly unlike one; and Martin darted towards it, but touched
only air.

And again he heard a mysterious voice whisper, "How could you ke