And she stole back to her place, and he lay down in his, and Jennifer dreamed that she was baking gingerbread, and Martin that he was eating it.
"Maids! maids! maids!"
It was Old Gillman on the heels of dawn.
"A pest on him and all farmers," groaned Martin, "who would harvest men's slumbers as soon as they're sown."
"Get into hiding!" commanded Joscelyn.
"I will not budge," said Martin. "I am going to sleep again. For at that moment I had a lion in one hand and a unicorn in the other—"
"WILL you conceal yourself!" whispered Joscelyn, with as much fury as a whisper can compass.
"And the lion had comfits in his crown, and the unicorn a gilded horn. And both were so sticky and spicy and sweet—"
Joscelyn flung herself upon her knees before him, spreading her yellow skirts which barely concealed him, as Old Gillman thrust his head through the hawthorn gap.
"Good morrow, maids," he grunted.