"You are here for no other purpose," said Joscelyn, "than to make them listen that will not. I would not have you think we desire to listen."
"I think nothing but that you are the prey of circumstances," said Martin, "constrained like flowers to bear witness to that which is against all nature."
"What do you mean by that?" said Joscelyn. "Flowers are nature itself."
"So men have agreed," replied Martin, "yet who but men have compelled them repeatedly to assert such unnaturalnesses as that foxes wear gloves and cuckoos shoes? Out on the pretty fibbers!"
"Please do not be angry with the flowers," said Joan.
"How could I be?" said Martin. "The flowers must always be forgiven, because their inconsistencies lie always at men's doors. Besides, who does not love fairy-tales?"
Then Martin kicked his heels against the tree and sang idly:
When cuckoos fly in shoes
And foxes run in gloves,
Then butterflies won't go in twos
And boys will leave their loves.
"A silly song," said Joscelyn.
Martin: If you say so. For my part I can never tell the difference between silliness and sense.