," said he, "for I've but one tale left in my
quiver, and if it does not make an end of the job, here we must stay
for the rest of our lives, puffing time away in gossamer."

Then Jessica, blowing, cried, "Four o'clock! come in to tea!"

And Joyce said, "Twelve o'clock! baste the goose in the oven."

"Three o'clock! change your frock!" said Jane.

"Eight o'clock! postman's knock!" said Jennifer.

"Ten o'clock! to bed, to bed!" cried Jessica again.

"Nine o'clock!--let me run down the lane for a moment first," begged
little Joan.

Then Martin blew eighteen o'clock and said it was six o'clock tomorrow
morning. And all the girls clapped their hands for joy--all except
Joscelyn, who sat quite by herself in a corner of the orchard, and
neither blew nor listened. And so they continued to change the hour and
the occupation: now washing, now wringing, now drying; now milking, now
baking, now mending; now cooking their meal, now eating it; now
strolling in the cool of the evening, now going to market on
marketing-day:--till by dinner they had filled the morning with a week
of hours, and the air with downy seedlings, as exquisite as crystals of
frost.

At dinner the maids ate very little, and Jessica said, "I think I'm
getting tired of bread."

"And apples?" said Martin.

"One never gets tired of apples," said Jessica, "but I would like to
have them roasted for a change, with cream. Or in a dumpling with brown
sugar. And instead of bread I would like plum-cake."

"What wouldn't I give for a bowl of curds and whey!" exclaimed Joyce.

"Fruit salad and custard is nice," sighed Jennifer.

"I could fancy a lemon cheesecake," observed Jane, "or a jam tart."

"I should like bread-and-honey," said little Joan. "Bread-and-honey's
the best of all."

"So it is," said Martin.

"You always have to suck your fingers afterwards," said Joan.

"That's why," said Martin. "Quince jelly is good too, and treacle
because if you're quick you can write your name in it, and picked
walnuts, and mushrooms, and strawberries, and green salad, and plovers'
eggs, and cherries are ripping especially in earrings, and macaroons,
and cheesestraws, and gingerbread, and--"

"Stop! stop! stop! stop! stop!" cried the milkmaids.

"I can hardly bear it myself," said Martin. "Let's play See-Saw."

So the maids rolled up a log from one part of the orchard, and Martin
got a plank from another part, because the orchard was full of all
manner of thin