“I follow the sheep,” said the Piper, and span the fourth penny. While it turned he sang:
“As I was going through No Man’s Land
I saw an old man counting sand,
I saw a woman sauntering by
With wings on her head that could not fly,
After that I saw a child
Who from birth had never smiled.
These riddles are hard to understand,
They could only happen in No Man’s Land.”
“Have all those riddles got answers?” asked Ginger.
“I think so,” said the Piper, “but they’re harder to find in the city than in the country. They grow best in the grass, like men and flowers. The grass is mown now, and Sussex smells hay and hears corn.”
He twisted his fifth penny, and sang while it hummed:
“If I had a lady
I’d give her pretty things,
Cowslip balls and daisy chains
And green grass rings.
I’d cut a fork of hazel
To find hidden wells,
And turn about we’d crack the nuts
And sail the nut-shells.
We’d love at first sight,
And marry on the spot,
I and the lady
That I haven’t got.”
“Gypsy!” cried Ginger. “I can’t bear it any longer. Let’s go and live in a hut in a wood.”
“If you want a nice hut,” said the Piper, “I know where there is one on the banks of a Southdown river, with martins under the thatch.”
“But the Blacksmith’s Son lives in it,” wailed Ginger, “with Lizzie Hooker.”