Nothing could! She pinned an old plaid shawl around the Rich Man's waist! She blacked his face! He had to kneel at her feet while it was being blacked! He seemed to sweat easily! But our Aunt Esta blacked very easily too! He looked lovely! Even my Father thought he looked lovely! When he was done he wanted to look in a mirror. My Father advised him not to. But he insisted. My Father got up from making suggestions and came and stood behind him while he looked. They looked only once. Something seemed to hit them. They doubled right up. It was laughter that hit them. They slapped each other on the back. They laughed! And laughed! And laughed! They made such a noise that my Mother came running! It seemed to make our Aunt Esta a little bit nervous to have my Mother come running. She pointed her wand. She roared her voice. "Where is the Silver Bird?" she roared. My Mother looked just as swoone-y as she could. She fell on her knees. She clasped her hands. "Oh, Cruel Witch," she said. "I _saw_ the bird! But I couldn't reach him! He was in the Poplar Tree!--However in the world did you put him there?--Was that what you were bribing the Butcher's Boy about this morning? Was that----?" "Hush!" roared our Aunt Esta. "Your Doom has overtaken you! Go hence with the clatter of a Horse's Hoof until such time as your Incompetent Head may----" "Oh, it wasn't my head that was incompetent," said my Mother. "It was my legs. The Poplar Tree was so very tall! So very fluffy and undecided to climb! So----" "With the clatter of a Horse's Hoof!" insisted our Aunt Esta. "There can be no mercy!" "None?" implored my Mother. "None!" said our Aunt Esta. She gave my Mother two funny little wooden cups. They were something like clappers. You could hold them in your hand so they scarcely showed at all and make a noise like a horse galloping across a bridge! Or trotting! Or anything! It made quite a loud noise! It was wonderful! My Mother started right away for the village. She had on white shoes. Her feet were very small. She sounded like a great team horse stumbling up the plank of a ferry-boat. "I think I'll go get the mail!" she said. "Like that?" screamed my Father. My Mother turned around. Her hair was all curly. There were laughs in her eyes. "I _have_ to!" she said. "I'm bewitched!" "I'll go with you!" said my Father. My Mother turned around again. She looked at my Father! At his golden crown! At his white spangled wings! At the pink silk skirt over his arm! "Like--that?" said my Mother. My Father decided not to go. The Rich Man said he considered the decision very wise. They glared. Way over on the other side of the green lilac hedge we heard my Mother trotting down the driveway. _Clack_-clack--_clack_--clack sounded the hoof-beats! "My Lord--she's pacing!" groaned my Father. "Clever work!" said the Rich Man. "Was she ever in a Band? In a Jazz Band, you know, with Bantam Rooster whistles? And drums that bark like dogs?"