"So it's all together and with a will, Jess!" added the Tinker.
"Aye, aye—and heartily!" laughed Jessamy.
I will pass over the labour of the ensuing hours wherein we all wrought cheerfully; but evening found us camped within that oft-remembered wood beside the stream whose murmurous waters seemed to find a voice to welcome us.
CHAPTER VI
WHICH, AS THE PATIENT READER SEES, IS THE LAST
The Tinker stood resplendent in brass-buttoned coat of bottle green which, if a little threadbare at the seams, made up for this by the astonishing size and sheen of its buttons.
At this precise moment (I remember) he was engaged in brushing it vigorously, pausing between whiles to pick carefully at certain refractory blemishes, to give an extra polish to some particular button, or consult the never-failing watch, for to-day Diana and I were to be married.
"By Goles, Peregrine, it's past twelve o'clock already!" he ejaculated. "They ought to be here soon and—"
He checked suddenly and stood hushed and mute, for Jessamy had appeared,—a glorified Jessamy, resplendent from top to toe; his boots shone superbly, his coat sat on him with scarce a wrinkle, but his chief glory was his shirt, prodigiously beruffled at wrists and bosom.
The Tinker eyed these noble adornments in undisguised admiration.