take my office betimes and give us a comfortable fire-side in our old age: Robert, or not Robert, so that it be a lad of the forest: I’ll never stand upon trifles: but for the clerk,—dost hear Anne?—this hero of a crow-quill, never hang about my neck or think to wheedle me again.”
For the clerk’s sake old Anne would have ventured to wheedle her husband a little longer: but the forester, who knew by experience the pernicious efficacy of female eloquence, was resolved not to expose his own firmness of purpose to any further assaults or trials; and, taking down his gun from the wall, he walked out into the forest.
Scarcely had he turned the corner of the house, when a rosy light-haired face looked in at the door. It was Katharine: smiling and blushing, she stopped for a moment in agitation, and said:—“Have you succeeded, mother? was it yes, dear mother?” Then, bounding into the room, she fell on her mother’s neck for an answer.
“Ah Kate, be not too confident when thou
