He held his head high as if he felt like a sort of priest and his strange eyes had a wonderful look in them.

The light shone on him through the tree canopy.
"Now we will begin," he said.

"Shall we sway backward and forward, Mary, as if we were dervishes ?" "I canna' do no swayin' back'ard and for'ard," said Ben Weatherstaff.
"I've got th' rheumatics." "The Magic will take them away," said Colin in a High Priest tone, "but we won't sway until it has done it.

We will only chant." "I canna' do no chantin'" said Ben Weatherstaff a trifle testily.
"They turned me out o' th' church choir th' only time I ever tried it." No one smiled.

They were all too much in earnest.