Robin Hood's Barn 



and choked, I told myself bravely that to such 

 old rascals discomfort might prove as distasteful 

 as death; and at least if I judged by myself, 

 this time I should tickle their gills. Still my first 

 failure in tactics had made me a little self-con- 

 scious and I felt that the rogues, unseen, might 

 be watching me, and be doubled up despite their 

 full meals at the antics I cut. Did my calcimined 

 face delight them like the tragic mask of a clown 

 and did my enforced tears, aU my clumsy antics 

 seem to them as comic as his? Now that I had 

 been aroused, did I only add zest to their sport? 

 In any case I determined to leave them a banquet 

 which should be but the ghost of their former 

 feasts. 



Unfortunately, it proved one of no such imma- 

 terial quality, for a shower quickly turned my 

 white cover to marble, which if no tooth could 

 nibble, no trowel could break. I spent the next 

 day in chiseling sculpture to life. 



As a last resort I tried ashes; and this time 

 in contrast my garden became realistic in the 

 usual dreary sense. It had a woeful appearance. 

 It was like the pathetic patch one so often sees at 



[254] 



