Just take your scythe over close to where she is, and as soon as ever I give the signal, you begin to scrape the blade of it with your stone and whistle a tune at the same time as loud as you can." "'The Wearing of the Green,' or the like ?" "Not 'The Wearing of the Green.' It's a melancholy, soothing sort of tune which would probably only make her sleep sounder.

Whistle a good lively jig." "I will," said Callaghan.
Meldon walked away.

When he reached the house he stood on the top step of the flight which leads to the hall door and waved his pocket handkerchief.

Callaghan picked up his scythe cautiously, and went on tip-toe across to Miss King's hammock.

He did not wish to disturb her prematurely.