A little gipsy lass

by Gordon Stables

'No doubt.'

'Have you ever been an infant prodigy?'

'No, only an infant prodigal.'

'But when I was only four—ages and ages ago—I used to stand on one leg on my father's hand when he was galloping round the ring on his Araby steed. Then he would jerk his arm, and I would spring high in the air, turn a somersault, and alight in the hand again with my arms turned up and my eyes looking to heaven. And the people cheered, and I used to be handed round for the ladies to kiss. I hated that part. Heigh-ho! We've only a little show now, and if it wasn't for the merman we couldn't live.'

'Have you a real merman?'

'Father must tell you all about that,' she answered hurriedly. 'But mind, Mr Blake, you must never ask me anything about the show. You promise?'

'I promise.'

'Never—never—never?'

'Never—never—never,' said Antony.

She quickly put about the boat. 'You see the flag half-mast, don't you? Well, that is my recall. It will only be an hour's rehearsal to-day. Then, if you please, Mr Blake, we'll go for a walk with Wallace.'