Then they all went up into the tree, where, as I have heard, they lived happily together ever after.
THE TREE OF PRIDE
“To-day it’s the book’s turn,” said the miller to his friends as the light was fading one evening. “Last time we heard about Bogeys and people of that sort, but to-day we’ll have a Princess, and King’s Courts and fine company.”
“I like hearing about grand ladies,” observed Janet.
“Yes, I like them well enough, too,” replied he; “that is, if they’re as good and as beautiful as some lasses I have seen.”
He looked rather hard at Janet, and she blushed.
“Oh, never mind talking!” broke in little Peter, pulling the miller’s sleeve. “It’s the story I want. If you don’t begin quick the light will be gone; the rooks are coming home already, and soon we shall have to go in to supper.”
“You needn’t do that, for you shall come to supper with me in the mill,” said the miller. “How would you like that?”
“We daren’t,” said Janet.
“I’ll go and make it right with your grandmother myself,” he replied. “She’ll be glad enough, maybe, for there’ll be all the more left in the larder to-morrow. Sit still till I come back.”