But he remembered his treatment at breakfast, and refused all these bribes with scorn.  He declined to be petted, he continued to hover over the tree, and circle around it, giving vent to the most discordant shrieks.  Presently she heard the clear measured tones of her Mamma’s voice saying, “RUBY, come down at once.  I know you are up in the elm.”  Cawcus, whom she had maltreated, had betrayed her hiding-place.

RUBY dared not disobey.  Quite subdued, and with garments grievously greened, she descended.  Mamma took her little daughter indoors, and improved the occasion.  RUBY eventually appeared, with tears in her eyes, and subsequently apologised to her governess, recited the page of French phrases without a mistake, and promised to be a good girl.  Though she sometimes forgot herself, and was rude to Miss DUMBELL afterwards, she never failed to treat Cawcus the Rook with most profound consideration and reverence.

* * * * *

TO MELENDA.

(A SET OF VERSES ACCOMPANYING A PHOTOGRAPH.)

[Illustration]

  I remember—­do you?—­the remarkable sky light
    That flooded the heavens one evening in May,
  How together we talked tete-a-tete in the twilight,
    When the glow of the sunset had faded away. 
  Then you showed me your album.  I looked at its pages. 
    With yourself as my guide and companion went through
  Its contents—­there were people of all sorts and ages,
    But the portrait I fancied the most was—­of you.

  And you saw that I did.  Which perhaps was the reason
    Of your “No!” when I asked “May I have it?” You swore
  You were going to be shot at the close of the season,
    And you couldn’t spare that, as there weren’t any more. 
  But at length I prevailed, or at least you relented,
    After ever so many excuses—­in fine
  We agreed to a compact, you only consented
    On condition I gave you a portrait of mine.

  Well, I promised, of course.  And I write you these verses
    With your face—­you’ll forgive me—­quite close to my own. 
  There’s a charm in your look that completely disperses
    All my cares in a way that is yours, dear, alone. 
  And although I am pleased, since I won in the end—­a
    More ridiculous bargain has never, I vow,
  Been arranged than a picture of pretty MELENDA,
    In exchange for the photograph sent to you now.

  We did not meet again through some horrible blunder,
    Which a merciless Fate must be asked to explain,
  And I sometimes sit smoking, and wearily wonder
    If I ever am destined to see you again. 
  Yet wherever the future may possibly find you,
    To this final request do not answer me Nay,
  When I ask that this gift of myself may remind you
    Of the friend who was with you that evening in May.

* * * * *