The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (11.1896)

By Max Beerbobm 33
So they walked back through the wood, taking a narrow path
which Jenny said would lead them quickest to the village. And,
as they went, they came to a tiny cottage, with a garden that was
full of flowers. The old woodman was leaning over its paling,
and he nodded to them as they passed.
“I often used to envy the woodman,” said Jenny, “living in
that dear little cottage.”
“ Let us live there, then,” said Lord George. And he went
back and asked the old man if he were not unhappy, living there
all alone.
“ ’Tis a poor life here for me,” the old man answered. “ No
folk come to the wood, except little children, now and again, to
play, or lovers like you. But they seldom notice me. And in
winter I am alone with Jack Frost. Old men love merrier com-
pany than that. Oh ! I shall die in the snow with my faggots on
my back. A poor life here ? ”
“ I will give you gold for your cottage and whatever is in it,
and then you can go and live happily in the town,” Lord George
said. And he took from his coat a note for two hundred guineas,
and held it across the palings.
“Lovers are poor, foolish derry-docks,” the old man muttered.
“But I thank you kindly, sir. This little sum will keep me
finely, as long as I last. Come into the cottage as soon as soon
can be. It’s a lonely place and does my heart good to depart
from it.”
“We are going to be married this afternoon, in the town,”
said Lord George. “We will come straight back to our
home.”
“ May you be happy ! ” replied the woodman. “ You’ll find me
gone when you come.”
And the lovers thanked him and went their way.

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