Sing up, please, train bearer. No, not quite
so loud. That's deafening and not melodious."
In the end he was degraded from the position of train-bearer to that
of ordinary "swain." The "swains" were to be dressed in smocks and the
"maidens" in print dresses, and the Maypole dance was to be performed
round Evangeline Fish, who was to stand in queenly attire by the pole
in the middle. All the village was to be invited.
At the end of the rehearsal William came upon Bettine, once more
gazing wistfully at Evangeline Fish, who was coquetting (with many
tosses of the fair ringlets) before a crowd of admirers.
"Isn't it lovely for her to be May Queen?" said Bettine.
"She's a rotten one," said William. "I'm jolly glad _I've_ not to hold
up her rotten ole train an' listen to her narsy squeaky voice singin'
close to, an' I'll give you a present to-morrow."
He did. He found a centipede in the garden and pressed it into her
hand on the way to school.
"They're jolly int'restin'," he said. "Put it in a match-box and make
holes for its breath and it'll live ever so long. It won't bite you if
you hold it the right way."
And because she loved William she took it without even a shudder.
Evangeline Fish began to pursue William. She grudged him bitterly to
Bettine. She pirouetted near him in her sky-blue garments, she tossed
her ringlets about him. She ogled him with her pale blue eyes.
And in the long school hours during which he dreamed at his desk, or
played games with his friends, while highly-paid instructors poured
forth their wisdom for his benefit, William evolved a plan.
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