Why brought you but two straws ?" "Fair mistress, I hoped you would let me put my lips to your straw, there being but two." Margaret smiled and blushed.

"Never beg that you may command," said she.
"The straw is not mine, 'tis yours: you cut it in yonder field." "I cut it, and that made it mine; but after that, your lip touched it, and that made it yours." "Did it Then I will lend it you.

There--now it is yours again; your lip has touched it." "No, it belongs to us both now.

Let us divide it." "By all means; you have a knife." "No, I will not cut it--that would be unlucky.

I'll bite it.