When they passed the Gilpin place, on their way from the landing, a stop was made for a fresh supply of oak leaves from their favorite tree, and Rosalind pinned one on her uncle's coat.
"I invite the Arden Foresters to meet with me to-morrow under the greenwood tree," said Mr. Whittredge, surveying his badge.
"That's poetry, go on," said Jack.
"I'll have to fall back into prose to finish. At the foot of Red Hill, at half-past seven P.M."
"What tree does he mean?" asked Katherine.
"Under the greenwood tree is a poetical figure," Mr. Whittredge explained.
"It will be dark at half-past seven," said Jack.
"Of course it will be, and that's going to be the fun," cried Belle.
"There will be a moon," added Maurice, who was wise in such matters.
"And what are we to do there?" asked Rosalind.