Black Bartlemys Treasure

"O Martin," says she, turning the pot this way and that, "O Martin, 'tis wonderful--"

"'Tis an abomination!" quoth I.

"And 'twill hold water!"

"'Tis like an ill dream!" says I.

"And so strong, Martin."

"True, 'tis the only merit the things possess, they are like stone--watch now!" And here, to prove my words, I let one drop, though indeed I chose a soft place for it.

"And they will be so easy to carry with these handles, and--why, what have you there?" Saying which she sets down the pot, gently as it had been an egg-shell, and comes to me; whereupon I showed her my posy, and I more fool-like than ever.

"I chanced to--see them growing," says I, "and thought--your birthday--they might pleasure you a little, mayhap--"

"Please me?" says she, taking them. "Please me--O the dear, beautiful things, I love them!" And she buries her face among them. "'Twas kind of you to bring them for me, Martin!" says she, her face hidden in the flowers, "Indeed you are very good to me! After all, you are that same dear Martin I knew long ago, that boy who used to brandish his rusty sword and vow he'd suffer no evil to come near me, and yearned for ogres and dragons to fight and slay on my behalf. And one day you caught a boy pulling my hair."

"It was very long hair even then!" says I.

"And he made your lip bleed, Martin."

"And I hit him on the nose!" says I.

"And he ran away, Martin."

"And you bathed my lip in the pool and afterwards you--you--"

"Yes I did, Martin. Though 'tis a long time to remember."

"I--shall never forget!" says I. "Shall you?"

Here she buries her face in her flowers again.

"As to the pots, Martin, there are four quite unbroken, will you help me bear them to our refuge, breakfast will be ready."

"Breakfast is a sweet word!" quoth I. "And as to these things, if you will have them, well and good!"

And thus, she with her flowers and I with the gallipots, we came to our habitation.

"What do we work at to-day?" she questioned as we rose from our morning meal.

"To-day I make you a pair of shoes."

"How may I aid you, Martin?"

"In a thousand ways," says I, and I plucked a great fan-shaped leaf that grew adjacent. "First sit you down! And now give me your foot!" So, kneeling before her, I traced out the shape of her foot upon the leaf and got no further for a while, so that presently she goes about her household duties leaving me staring at my leaf and scratching my head, puzzling out how I must cut and shape my goat-skin. Well-nigh all that morning I sat scheming and studying how best I might achieve my purpose, and the end of it was this: (Sketch of a leaf cut to shape.) This shape I cut from the leaf and with it went to find my lady; then, she sitting upon the stool, I took off one of her shoes (and she all laughing wonderment) and fitting this pattern to her foot, found it well enough for shape, though something too large. I now took the goat-skin and, laying it on the table, cut therefrom a piece to my pattern; then with one of my nails ground to a sharp point like a cobbler's awl, I pierced it with holes and sewed it together with gut in this fashion: (Four sketches of shaped hide showing stages of manufacture.) This is quickly over in the telling, but it was long a-doing, so that having wrought steadily all day, night was at hand ere her shoes were completed, with two thicknesses of hide for soles and all sewed mighty secure.