III.
Belinda cried for half an hour without stopping, and her eyes were swollen up, and her cheeks wet with tears. Some one was standing by her, and a voice was saying—
"Why are you crying, little girl, I pray,
On such a pleasant sunny summer day?
I'm a little packman, with my funny pack.
Such a weight! oh, such a weight! to carry on my back.
What will you buy, maiden? what will you buy?
Half a dozen handkerchiefs, to wipe your cheeks quite dry?"
Belinda looked up, and in her surprise left off crying. Before her stood a small boy with a bundle of wheat over his shoulder. He looked tired and melancholy, and not by any means as jovial as might have been expected from his words.
"Handkerchiefs!" said Belinda, disdainfully. "Why, you've nothing but a wisp of straw over your shoulder, and it can't be any weight."
"he ... stood with his hat in hand."
"Try it," said the boy, throwing it down upon the ground.
But Belinda took no notice of it.