strikers by sea and land—drank, not one, but three soupes au vin in honour of the Blessed Trinity. This done, he charged the islanders; and, as might have been foretold, killed a multitude, and drove the rest into the sea. But he was only the first of a long list of holy and hard-hitting ones who have, by this divine restorative, been sustentated, fortified, corroborated, and consoled.”
“Dear father, prithee add thyself to that venerable company ere the soup cools.” And Margaret held the hat imploringly in both hands till he inserted the straw once more.
This spared them the “modern instances,” and gave Gerard an opportunity of telling Margaret how proud his mother would be her soup had profited a man of learning.
“Ay! but,” said Margaret, “it would like her ill to see her son give all and take none himself. Why brought you but two straws?”
“Fair mistress, I hoped you would let me put my lips to your straw, there being but two.”
Margaret smiled and blushed. “Never beg that you may command,” said she. “The straw is not mine, 'tis yours: you cut it in yonder field.”
“I cut it, and that made it mine; but after that, your lip touched it, and that made it yours.”
“Did it Then I will lend it you. There—now it is yours again; your lip has touched it.”
“No, it belongs to us both now. Let us divide it.”
“By all means; you have a knife.”
“No, I will not cut it—that would be unlucky. I'll bite it. There I shall keep my half: you will burn yours, once you get home, I doubt.'
“You know me not. I waste nothing. It is odds but I make a hairpin of it, or something.”
This answer dashed the novice Gerard, instead of provoking him, to fresh efforts, and he was silent. And now, the bread and soup being disposed of, the old scholar prepared to continue his journey. Then came a little difficulty: Gerard the adroit could not tie his ribbon again as Catherine had tied it.
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