Of Clothes

"Good morrow to your lordship," says she. "Your lordship called, I think, but I could not answer your lordship's shouts since I was busied preparing your lordship's breakfast."

Now beholding all the sweet and roguish witchery of her, the sun so bright and the world about us so joyous, what could I do but smile and, sweeping off my great hat, make her as deep and profound a reverence as ever was seen at Whitehall or Versailles.

"Madame," quoth I, "your ladyship's most humble and very obedient servant. I trust your ladyship hath breakfast ready, for of a truth my magnificence is mighty sharp set."

"O Martin," cries she, clapping her hands, "I vow 'twas most gallant! It needeth but for you to trim your hair and beard--no, I think I will have you clean-shaven, 'twill mind me of the boyish Martin of years ago! Yes, you shall shave--"

"Shave!" quoth I, staring like any fool.

"Yes, Martin, I have all things ready. Come, it shall not take you long, we will breakfast when you are shaved and trimmed." So, willy-nilly, she brings me back to the cave and presently comes bearing a gold-mounted box, wherein lay razors with soap and everything needful to a fine gentleman's toilet. Then she sets before me a gold-framed mirror, and taking a pair of scissors at her bidding I began to clip the hair from my face, but so bungled the business that she presently took the scissors and did it for me. Thereafter I shaved (awkwardly enough, and she mighty anxious lest I cut myself--the which I did!) and, having at last washed and dried my face, I stood all amazed to find myself so much younger-looking. Now, seeing how she stared at me, and with rosy lips all a-quiver, I smiled, then wondered to behold her eyes suddenly a-brim with tears.