People will talk; boys are such crazy things;
But he's a dear boy though he is so green.'
So, hurriedly, she slipped her apron strings,
And dabbed her hair, and wiped her fingers clean,
And came to greet him languid as a queen,
Looking as sweet, as fair, as pure, as sad,
As when she drove her loving husband mad.
'Poor boy,' she said, 'Poor boy, how hot you are.'
She laid a cool hand to his sweating face.
'How kind to come. Have you been running far?