"What do you mean?" I asked coldly, for his words seemed suggestive.
"You look so jolly fresh," he observed, dressing himself leisurely.
I felt that it was time I returned, and invited Tommy to partake of
lunch with me. He declined, however, as he had thoughtfully provided
himself with food, before starting out with the poet.
"So long," he said.
As I glanced up the brook, before returning homewards, I saw a sailor
hat, navigating a small rapid.
"But I have no walking-stick," I reflected. "And it is in the middle of
the stream."