"It was round her waist." 

 "Imp, it was." 

 "Just like Peter's?" 

 "Yes." 

 "An' the man with the funny name?" 

 "Archibald's, yes," 

 "An'—an—" 

 "And mine," I put in, seeing he paused. 

 "Uncle Dick—why?" 

 "Ah! who knows, Imp—perhaps it was the Moon-magic. And now by my troth!  'tis full time all good knights were snoring, so hey for bed and the Slumber-world!" 

 The ladder was dragged from its hiding place, and the Imp, having mounted, watched me from his window as I returned it to the laurels for very obvious reasons. 

 "We didn't see any fairies, did we, Uncle Dick?" 

 "Well, I think I did, Imp, just for a moment; I may have been mistaken, of course, but anyhow, it has been a very wonderful night all the same. And so—God rest you, fair Knight!" 

 

 

 V 

 THE EPISODE OF THE INDIAN'S AUNT 

 The sun blazed down, as any truly self-respecting sun should, on a fine August afternoon; yet its heat was tempered by a soft, cool breeze that just stirred the leaves above my head. The river was busy whispering many things to the reeds, things which, had I been wise enough to understand, might have helped me to write many wonderful books, for, as it is so very old, and has both seen and heard so much, it is naturally very wise. But alas! being ignorant of the language of rivers, I had to content myself with my own dreams, and the large, speckled frog, 

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