obleman or you shall leave us. We'll take you, but if you forget
your part we shall certainly leave you," and they dragged him off
recklessly.

At the fair, ribbons were flying, bands were playing, lads and lasses
were dancing, and farmers were singing:

[Music:

Bright and buxom lasses,
Come, the fair shall now begin,
Show your rosy faces
And our hearts ye soon shall win.]

Fleet of foot, and clad with neatness,
Come and let the master choose;
Sweet of temper, all discreetness,
Who a prize like this would lose?

Done is the bargain if the maid is trusty,
blythe and willing;
Done is the bargain if she accepts the master's
proffered shilling!

Thus, the farmers who had come to the fair to choose a maid-servant,
sang together. The maid-servants were meanwhile singing a song of
their own, and everybody was in high feather.

Now to this fair had come two farmers in particular; one being farmer
Plunkett, and the other, altogether a handsome fellow, named Lionel,
who was the foster-brother of Plunkett. As a matter of fact, he was
left in his babyhood on the doorstep of Plunkett's father, who adopted
him and brought him up with his own son. The baby had had nothing by
which he could be identified, but there was a ring left with him, and
the instruction that it was to be shown to the Queen in case the boy
should ever find himself in serious trouble when he grew up. Now both
these gay farmers had come to secure maid-servants for the year, and
Plunkett came up to inspect the girls as they assembled.

"What a clatter! This becomes a serious matter. How on earth is a man
to make a choice with such confusion all about him?"

"Oh well, there is no haste," Lionel replied leisurely.

"No haste? I tell you, Lionel, we can't afford to lose any time. There
is that farm falling to pieces for need of a competent servant to look
after it! I should say there was haste, with a vengeance. We must get
a good stout maid to go home with us, or we shall be in a pretty fix.
You don't know much about these things, to be sure. You were always
our mother's favourite, and I the clumsy bear who got most of the
cuffs and ran the farm; but take my word for it, if we don't find good
maids we shall soon be ruined, because you are of no more use on a
farm than the fifth wheel is on a wagon."

"Oh, come, come, brother, don't----"

"That's all right! I meant no harm. You