barrel o' cider." "What was she like to look at?" asked Martin. "Yaller hair and gray eyes," said Gillman. "And me a bachelor." "It was hopeless," said Martin. "It were," said Old Gillman. "And it were the end o' my peace of life. She looks me straight in the eye and she says, Juniper's my name, but I'm June to them as loves me. And June I'll be to you. For I have traveled his rounds wi' this Carrier for a week, and sat behind his curtain while he told men my wishes. And you be the only one of them all as is willing to do a difficult thing for an idle whim, if what is the heart's desire can ever be idle. So I will sit behind the curtain no longer, and if you will let me I will follow you to the ends of Sussex till the Murray River be found, or we be dead.' And I says Jump, lass!' and down she jumps and puts up her mouth." Gillman filled his mug. Martin filled his. "Well," said he, "a man must take his bull by the horns. And did you ever succeed in finding the Murray River?" "Wi' a child's help. It can only be found by a child's help. Tis the child's river of all Sussex. Any child can help you to it." "Yes," said Martin, "and all children know it." Old Gillman put down his mug. "Do YOU know it, boy?" "I live by it," said Martin Pippin, "when I live anywhere." "Do children play in it still?" asked Gillman. "None but children," said Martin Pippin. "And above all the child which boys and girls are always rediscovering in each other's hearts, even when they've turned gray in other folks' sight. And at the end of it is a mystery." "She were a child to the end," said Old Gillman. "A fair nuisance, so she were. And Jill takes after her." "Well, SHE'S off your hands anyhow," said Martin getting up. "She's to be some other body's nuisance now, and your maids have come back to their milking." "Ah, have they?" grunted Gillman. "The lads did it better. And they cooked better. And they cleaned better. There is nothing men cannot do better than women." "I know it," said Martin Pippin, "but it would be unkind to let on." "Then we'll wash our hands of em. But don't go, boy," said Old Gillman. "Talking of Sloe Gin--" Martin sat down again. They talked of Sloe Gin for a very long time. They did not agree about it. They got out some bottles to see if they could not manage to agree. Martin thought one bottle hadn't enough sugar-candy in it, so they put in some more; and Old Gillman thought another bottle hadn't enough gin in it, so they also put in some more. But they couldn't get it right, though they tried and tried. Old Gillman thought it should be filtered drop by drop seventy times through seven hundred sheets of blotting-paper, but Martin thought seven hundred times through seventy sheets was better; and Martin thought it should then be kept for seven thousand years, but Old Gillman thought seven years sufficient. But neither of these points had ever been really proved, and was not that day.