because they mean the same thing.'Fresh woods' would mean something different.""I can't help it," said Mary; "that's Milton's affair.'Fresh fields.'"Janet called to Robert."Is it 'fresh fields and pastures new,' or 'fresh woods and pastures new'?" she asked him.
"'Fresh fields,'" he said.
Janet asked Jack."I don't know," he said, "but 'fresh woods' sounds more sensible.""Oh, dear," said Janet, "I wish we had a Milton!""Well, we haven't," said Robert, " and you're not likely to find one at Cirencester to-day, unless, of course, the vicar has one.""Oh, yes," said Janet, "of course--the vicar.He's certain to have one.""But who'll ask him?" said Horace.
"Janet will," said Mary.
"Oh, no," said Janet.
"Well, it's your affair," said Robert.
"Not more than Mary's," said Janet."Mary, will you ask him?""No," said Mary, "I don't think I could.Not the vicar.I might be willing to ask the curate.""What a ripping idea!" said Jack."Of course the curate would be much easier.We'll ask where he lives."They did so at a small tobacconist's that was open, and found that the curate had rooms at Myrtle Villa, quite close by.
They therefore marched towards Myrtle Villa, but first arranged to draw lots to see who should ring the bell and make the inquiry.They tore up paper of different sizes, and it was agreed that the holders of the longest and the shortest pieces should go--the longest to put the question, the shortest to ring and lend support.The result was that Mary drew the longest and Gregory the smallest.
Gregory was furious."I don't even know what it's all about," he complained.
They told him.
"How rotten!" he said."What's it matter?"Mary, however, led him off to the house, and he rang the bell with vigour.
A smiling girl opened the door and asked what they wanted.
"Is the curate at home?" Mary asked.
The girl said that he was.
"Will you ask him if he will speak to us for a moment?" said Mary.
"What about?" asked the girl."He has a friend with him.""I don't think you'd understand if we told you," said Mary.
"I must know what it's about," said the girl."He doesn't like to be disturbed on Sunday afternoons.""Has he got a lot of books--poetry books?" Gregory asked.
"Yes," said the girl, "heaps."
"Then it's about Milton," said Mary.
"Milton the baker!" exclaimed the girl."He's not dead, is he?""Milton the poet," said Mary.
"I'm all in a maze," said the girl."I don't know what you're talking about.But I suppose I'd better tell him."The girl left them on the mat and knocked at a door just inside.
"Come in," said a man's voice.
"Please, sir," said the girl, "there are two children asking about someone named Milton."The owner of the voice laughed."Are they?" he said."Well, they've come to the right shop." And then the door opened wider and a tall and handsome young man came out, dressed in a cricket blazer over a clergyman's waistcoat and collar, and smoking a large pipe.
"What's all this about Milton?" he said cheerily."What Milton? Not the poet?""Yes," said Mary.
"Oh, I say, this is too good," said the young clergyman."Vernon," he called out, "come here and see a deputation from Milton."Another young man joined him, equally pleasant looking, and they all shook hands.
"Come inside," said the young clergyman.
"There are four others waiting in the road," said Gregory."Then fetch them in too," said the young clergyman.And Janet and Robert and Jack and Horace were brought in.
"Now," said the young clergyman, "have some tea." And he rang the bell and ordered enough tea for eight.
When the girl had gone, he asked for full particulars, and then gave his verdict.
"'Fresh woods and pastures new.'"
"Oh, rubbish!" said Vernon."I've always learned 'fresh fields and pastures new.'""That's what I say," said Mary.
"And so do I," said Robert and Horace.
"I think YOU'RE right," said Janet to the young clergyman.
"Well," he said, "I'll look it up." And he began to hunt for Milton on his shelves.
