He stayed for a long time—nearly a week—and when he came back he brought several sad verses with him to read. "They are very dull," said the lady; "what is the matter with you?" He confessed that he did not know, and began to talk learnedly about the Greek and Persian poets, until the lady was consumed with a fever of dullness.
"You are simply impossible!" she cried. "I wonder at myself for having chosen such a friend!"
"I am sorry indeed," said the man.
"For what?"
"For having disappointed you as a friend, and also for having lost my dear unruly sprite who kept me from being dull."
"Lost him!" exclaimed the lady. "How?"
"By now," said the man, "he must be quite dead, for I tied him to a tree in the forest five days ago and left him to starve."
"You are a brute," said the lady, "and a very stupid man. Come, take me to the tree. At least we can bury the poor sprite, and then we shall part forever."
So he took her by the hand and guided her through the woods, and they talked much of the sadness of parting forever.
