"I think so, Uncle Dick; only I do wish I'd made him surrender. The
book says that Robin Hood always made his enemies 'surrender an' beg
their life on trembling knee!' Oh, it must be fine to see your enemies
on their knee!"

"Especially if they tremble," I added.

"Do you s'pose that boy--I mean 'yon base varlet' would have
surrendered?"

"Not a doubt of it--if he hadn't happened to push you over the bank
first."

"Oh!" murmured the Imp rather dubiously.

"By the way," I said as I filled my pipe, "where is your Auntie
Lisbeth?"

"Well, I chased her up the big apple-tree with my bow an' arrow."

"Of course," I nodded. "Very right and proper!"

"You see," he explained, "I wanted her to be a wild elephant an' she
wouldn't."

"Extremely disobliging of her!"

"Yes, wasn't it? So when she was right up I took away the ladder an'
hid it."

"Highly strategic, my Imp."

"So then I turned into Robin Hood. I hung my cap on a bush to shoot
at, you know, an' 'the Base Varlet' came up an' ran off with it."

"And there it is," I said, pointing to where it lay. The Imp received
it with profuse thanks, and having wrung out the water, clapped it upon
his curls and sat down beside me.

"I found another man who wants to be me uncle," he began.

"Oh, indeed?"

"Yes; but I don't want any more, you know."

"Of course not. One like me suffices for your every-day needs--eh, my
Imp?"

The Imp nodded. "It was yesterday," he continued. "He came to see
Auntie Lisbeth, an' I found them in the summer-house in the orchard.
An' I heard him say, 'Miss Elizbeth, you're prettier than ever!"

"Did he though, confound him!"

"Yes, an then Auntie Lisbeth looked silly, an' then he saw me behind a
tree an' he looked silly, too, Then he said, 'Come here, little man!'
An' I went, you know, though I do hate to be called 'little man.' Then
he said he'd give me a shilling if I'd call him Uncle Frank."

"And what did you answer?"

"'Fraid I'm awfull' wicked," sighed the Imp, shaking his head, "'cause
I told him a great big lie."

"Did you, Imp?"

"Yes. I said I didn't want his shilling, an' I do, you know, most
awfully, to buy a spring pistol with."

"Oh, well, we'll see what can be done about the spring pistol," I
answered. "And so you don't like him, eh?"

"Should think not," returned the Imp promptly. "He's always so--so
awfull' clean, an' wears a little moustache with teeny sharp points on
it.

"Any one who do