"As bad as the rest of them," the boy said lazily, "but somehow pleasant."
The shadows flocked to their evening meeting in the square, and overhead the stars shone out in a sky that was certainly exceedingly blue.
IV
Next morning they arrested the boy as a rogue and a vagabond, and in the afternoon they brought him before the magistrate.
"And what have you to say for yourself!" said the magistrate to the boy, after the second policeman, like a faithful echo, had finished reading his notes.
"Well," said the boy, "I may be a rogue and a vagabond. Indeed, I think that I probably am; but I would claim the license that has always been allowed to singers."
"Oh!" said the magistrate. "So you are one of those, are you! And what is your message!"
"I think if I could sing you a song or two I could explain myself better," said the boy.
"Well," replied the magistrate doubtfully, "you can try if you like, but I warn you that I wrote songs myself when I was a boy, so that I know something about it."
"Oh, I'm glad of that," said the boy, and he sang his famous song of the grass that is so green, and when he had finished the magistrate frowned.