"Every bit," says he. "Why?"
"Because," says I, "you don't always act the same. And besides, you keep goin' with Charley King and George Heigold—and—and—"
"And what?" says Mitch.
"And—I was afraid you liked 'em better'n me."
"Why," says Mitch, "them two boys is just grave diggers compared to you—or Rosencrantz and Guildenstern—while you are Horatio all the time."
He explained to me what he meant by this, which was that in "Hamlet," Hamlet talked to grave diggers and to two men named Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, without givin' a snap for 'em compared to Horatio.
Then I said, "I'm goin' out to the farm to-morrow. School will begin in about three weeks. I'm goin' out on my pony, and you can ride behind. And you'd better come. We'll have a lot of fun, and my uncle is goin' to take me campin' to Blue Lake." So Mitch said he'd go; and after a bit he began to repeat something he'd committed to memory. He was settin' in the grass, lookin' up at me, and his voice was so wonderful and sweet, sayin' these words:
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O, what can ail thee, knight at arms, Alone and palely loitering? The sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing. O, what can ail thee, knight at arms, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel's granary is full, And the harvest's done. "I met a lady in the meads Full beautiful, a faery's child. Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild. "I saw pale kings and warriors too, Pale princes, death pale were they all. They said 'La Belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall.'" |
Mitch was goin' on with this when we heard some boys whistle. It was Charley King and George Heigold. They called Mitch to the fence and talked. Then Mitch called back and said, "I'm goin', Skeet—come for me—what time?"
"I'll be up about seven," I said.