I Try My Hand at Pottery

"I found them two days ago, Martin, but kept them until you should be well again. And this I found too!" And she showed me a gold collar of twisted wire, delicately wrought. All of the which put me in high good humour and I was minded to set off there and then to try a shot at something, but she prevailed upon me to finish my meal first; the which I did, though hastily.

"There was a knife also," says I suddenly.

"Yes, Martin, but I threw it into the lagoon."

"O folly!" says I.

"Nay, we have two knives already, and this as I do think was poisoned."

"No matter, 'twas a goodly knife--why must you throw it away?"

"Because I was so minded!" says she, mighty serene and regarding me with her calm, level gaze. "Never scowl, Martin, though indeed 'twas goodly knife with handle all gold-work." At this I scowled the more and she must needs laugh, calling me Black Bartlemy, whereon I turned my back on her and she fell a-singing to herself.

"Think you these arrows are poisoned also?" says she as I rose. At this, I emptied them from the quiver, and though their iron barbs looked innocent enough, I held each in the fire until I judged I had rendered them harmless if poisoned they were indeed.

And now, though sore tempted to try my skill with this good bow, I followed her down to the river-bank to try my hand at pottery, though taking good care to carry my bow with me.