cold tongue, and he’d never want to marry anyone else, because it was the One and Only Love of his Life, and he hoped he (William) would realise, when he was old enough to realise, what it meant to have your life spoilt and your happiness ruined all through coffee and tongue, because someone you’d never speak to again had hidden the lunch.  Whence it came that William, optimist though he was, felt that any appeal to Robert for funds would be inopportune, to say the least of it.

But Providence was on William’s side for once.  An old uncle came to tea and gave William five shillings.

“Going to dance at a Maypole, I hear?” he chuckled.

“P’raps,” was all William said.

His family were relieved by his meekness with regard to the May Day festival.  Sometimes William made such a foolish fuss about being dressed up and performing in public.

“You know, dear,” said his mother, “it’s a dear old festival, and quite an honour to take part in it, and a smock is quite a nice manly garment.”

“Yes, Mother,” said William.

The day was fine—­a real May Day.  The Maypole was fixed up in the field near the school, and the little performers were to change in the schoolroom.

William went out with his brown paper parcel of stage properties under his arm and stood gazing up the road by which Evangeline Fish must come to the school.  For Evangeline Fish would have to pass his gate.  Soon he saw her, her pale blue radiant in the sun.

“’Ullo!” he greeted her.

She simpered.  She had won him at last.

“Waitin’ to walk to the school with me, William?” she said.

He still loitered.

“You’re awful early.”

“Am I?  I thought I was late.  I meant to be late.  I don’t want to be too early.  I’m the most ’portant person, and I want to walk in after the others, then they’ll all look at me.”

She tossed her tightly-wrought curls.

“Come into our ole shed a minute,” said William.  “I’ve got a present for you.”

She blushed and ogled.

“Oh, William!” she said, and followed him into the wood-shed.

“Look!” he said.

[Illustration:  “HAVE A LOT,” SAID WILLIAM.  “THEY’RE ALL FOR YOU.  GO ON.  EAT ’EM ALL.  YOU CAN EAT AN’ EAT AN’ EAT.”]

His uncle’s five shillings had been well expended.  Rows of cakes lay round the shed, pastries, and sugar cakes, and iced cakes, and currant cakes.

“Have a lot,” said William.  “They’re all for you.  Go on!  Eat ’em all.  You can eat an’ eat an’ eat.  There’s lots an’ lots of time and they can’t begin without you, can they?”

“Oh, William!” she said.

She gloated over them.

“Oh, may I?”

“There’s heaps of time,” said William.  “Go on!  Eat them all!”

Her greedy little eyes seemed to stand out of her head.

“Oo!” she said in rapture.