When they’ve got no coals!
“Young Maidee, young Maidee,
If I tell you true,
I’m keeping some fagots
And sticks, too, for you!”
“We’ll accept the fagots, although we generally don’t take any help in the building of our Council Fire!” cried one of the girlish Wood Gatherers running toward him in the gloaming, holding up her left hand on which the silver fagot ring gleamed. “But don’t you dare—dare sing the rest of that song on peril of your life! I can sing it, too:
“A woman, a dog,
And an old walnut-tree,
The more that you whacks ’em
The better they’ll be!