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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-14 19:57:43 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-14 19:57:43 -0700
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+ <title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Golden Age, by Kenneth Grahame.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Age, by Kenneth Grahame
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Golden Age
+
+Author: Kenneth Grahame
+
+Illustrator: Maxfield Parrish
+
+Release Date: May 23, 2010 [EBook #32501]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN AGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<h4>There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg collection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in selecting the preferred file.<br />Click on any of the filenumbers below to quickly view each ebook.
+</h4>
+
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3">
+
+<tr><td>
+ <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/53250/53250-h/53250-h.htm">
+53250</a> </b> </td><td>(Fine color illustrations)
+</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td>
+ <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32501/32501-h/32501-h.htm">
+32501</a></b></td><td>(Fine sepia illustrations)
+</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td>
+ <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/291/291-h/291-h.htm">
+291</a></b> </td><td>(No illustrations)
+</td></tr>
+
+</table>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="434" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h1>THE GOLDEN AGE</h1>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='center'><b><i>COMPANION VOLUME TO THIS BOOK</i></b><br />
+
+<b><big>DREAM DAYS</big></b><br />
+<br />
+<b>BY</b><br />
+
+<b>KENNETH GRAHAME</b><br />
+
+<b><i>PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY MAXFIELD PARRISH</i></b></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;"><a name="title" id="title"></a>
+<img src="images/ill01.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="&#39;Onto the garden wall, which led in its turn to the roof of an out-house&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Onto the garden wall, which led in its turn to the roof of an out-house&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>'<i>The Golden Age</i>'</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 331px;"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a>
+<img src="images/title.jpg" width="331" height="500" alt="Title Page" title="" />
+</div>
+<h1>THE GOLDEN AGE</h1>
+
+<h2>BY KENNETH GRAHAME</h2>
+
+<h3>ILLUSTRATED By MAXFIELD PARRISH</h3>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+JOHN LANE.<br />
+THE BODLEY HEAD<br />
+LONDON AND NEW YORK<br />
+1900<br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<div class='copyright'>
+<i>Copyright, 1899</i><br />
+BY JOHN LANE<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<i>Copyright, 1904</i><br />
+BY JOHN LANE<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>PROLOGUE: THE OLYMPIANS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A HOLIDAY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A WHITE-WASHED UNCLE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE FINDING OF THE PRINCESS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>SAWDUST AND SIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>'YOUNG ADAM CUPID'</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE BURGLARS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A HARVESTING</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>SNOWBOUND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE ARGONAUTS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE ROMAN ROAD</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE SECRET DRAWER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>'EXIT TYRANNUS'</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE BLUE ROOM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A FALLING OUT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>'LUSISTI SATIS'</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>PUBLISHER'S NOTE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The publication of this new edition of "The Golden Age,"
+the favourite amongst Mr. Kenneth Grahame's favoured
+books, with the illustrations by Mr. Maxfield Parrish reproduced
+in photogravure, was accomplished through the
+kindness of the various owners, who gave access to the originals
+in their respective collections. The publisher begs gratefully
+to acknowledge this courtesy, with special thanks also to
+Mr. Frederick Keppel and Mr. Fitzroy Carrington for their
+kind co-operation.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='left'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Onto the garden wall, which led in its turn to the roof of an out-house'</div></td><td align='right' colspan='2'><i><a href="#frontis">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'The Golden Age'</div></td><td align='right' colspan='2'><i><a href="#title">Title</a></i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply'</div></td><td align='left'><i>Facing</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"I took the old fellow to the station"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'It was easy .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. to transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Who would have thought .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. that only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either side of a hedge'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'A great book open on his knee .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. a score or so disposed within easy reach'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'But yester-eve and the mummers were here!'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"They make me walk behind, 'cos they say I'm too little, and mustn't hear"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"I'm Jason .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and this is the Argo .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and we're just going through the Hellespont"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"You haven't been to Rome, have you?"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'I drew it out and carried it to the window, to examine it in the failing light'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a most mean and uncalled-for manner'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'The procession passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue Room'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"Why, Master Harold! whatever be the matter? Baint runnin' away, be ee?"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Finally we found ourselves sitting silent on an upturned wheelbarrow'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PROLOGUE: THE OLYMPIANS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>LOOKING back to those days of old, ere
+the gate shut to behind me, I can see
+now that to children with a proper equipment
+of parents these things would have worn a different
+aspect. But to those whose nearest were
+aunts and uncles, a special attitude of mind may
+be allowed. They treated us, indeed, with kindness
+enough as to the needs of the flesh, but
+after that with indifference (an indifference, as
+I recognise, the result of a certain stupidity),
+and therewith the commonplace conviction that
+your child is merely animal. At a very early
+age I remember realising in a quite impersonal
+and kindly way the existence of that stupidity,
+and its tremendous influence in the world; while
+there grew up in me, as in the parallel case of
+Caliban upon Setebos, a vague sense of a ruling
+power, wilful, and freakish, and prone to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
+practice of vagaries&mdash;'just choosing so': as,
+for instance, the giving of authority over us to
+these hopeless and incapable creatures, when
+it might far more reasonably have been given
+to ourselves over them. These elders, our betters
+by a trick of chance, commanded no respect,
+but only a certain blend of envy&mdash;of their good
+luck&mdash;and pity&mdash;for their inability to make
+use of it. Indeed, it was one of the most
+hopeless features in their character (when we
+troubled ourselves to waste a thought on them:
+which wasn't often) that, having absolute licence
+to indulge in the pleasures of life, they could
+get no good of it. They might dabble in the
+pond all day, hunt the chickens, climb trees in
+the most uncompromising Sunday clothes; they
+were free to issue forth and buy gunpowder in
+the full eye of the sun&mdash;free to fire cannons and
+explode mines on the lawn: yet they never did
+any one of these things. No irresistible Energy
+haled them to church o' Sundays; yet they
+went there regularly of their own accord, though
+they betrayed no greater delight in the experience
+than ourselves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></div>
+
+<p>On the whole, the existence of these Olympians
+seemed to be entirely void of interests,
+even as their movements were confined and
+slow, and their habits stereotyped and senseless.
+To anything but appearances they were blind.
+For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted,
+wonderful!) simply produced so many apples
+and cherries: or it didn't&mdash;when the failures of
+Nature were not infrequently ascribed to us.
+They never set foot within fir-wood or hazel-copse,
+nor dreamt of the marvels hid therein.
+The mysterious sources, sources as of old Nile,
+that fed the duck-pond had no magic for them.
+They were unaware of Indians, nor recked they
+anything of bisons or of pirates (with pistols!),
+though the whole place swarmed with such
+portents. They cared not to explore for robbers'
+caves, nor dig for hidden treasure. Perhaps,
+indeed, it was one of their best qualities
+that they spent the greater part of their time
+stuffily indoors.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/ill02.jpg" width="333" height="499" alt="&#39;For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>To be sure there was an exception in the
+curate, who would receive, unblenching, the information
+that the meadow beyond the orchard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+was a prairie studded with herds of buffalo, which
+it was our delight, moccasined and tomahawked,
+to ride down with those whoops that announce
+the scenting of blood. He neither laughed nor
+sneered, as the Olympians would have done;
+but, possessed of a serious idiosyncrasy, he
+would contribute such lots of valuable suggestion
+as to the pursuit of this particular sort of
+big game that, as it seemed to us, his mature
+age and eminent position could scarce have been
+attained without a practical knowledge of the
+creature in its native lair. Then, too, he was
+always ready to constitute himself a hostile army
+or a band of marauding Indians on the shortest
+possible notice: in brief, a distinctly able man,
+with talents, so far as we could judge, immensely
+above the majority. I trust he is a bishop by
+this time. He had all the necessary qualifications,
+as we knew.</p>
+
+<p>These strange folk had visitors sometimes&mdash;stiff
+and colourless Olympians like themselves,
+equally without vital interests and intelligent
+pursuits: emerging out of the clouds, and
+passing away again to drag on an aimless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+existence somewhere beyond our ken. Then
+brute force was pitilessly applied. We were
+captured, washed, and forced into clean collars:
+silently submitting as was our wont, with more
+contempt than anger. Anon, with unctuous hair
+and faces stiffened in a conventional grin, we
+sat and listened to the usual platitudes. How
+could reasonable people spend their precious
+time so? That was ever our wonder as we
+bounded forth at last: to the old clay-pit to
+make pots, or to hunt bears among the hazels.</p>
+
+<p>It was perennial matter for amazement how
+these Olympians would talk over our heads&mdash;during
+meals, for instance&mdash;of this or the other
+social or political inanity, under the delusion
+that these pale phantasms of reality were
+among the importances of life. We <i>illuminati</i>,
+eating silently, our heads full of plans and conspiracies,
+could have told them what real life
+was. We had just left it outside, and were all
+on fire to get back to it. Of course we didn't
+waste the revelation on them: the futility of
+imparting our ideas had long been demonstrated.
+One in thought and purpose, linked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+by the necessity of combating one hostile fate,
+a power antagonistic ever&mdash;a power we lived to
+evade&mdash;we had no confidants save ourselves.
+This strange an&aelig;mic order of beings was further
+removed from us, in fact, than the kindly beasts
+who shared our natural existence in the sun.
+The estrangement was fortified by an abiding
+sense of injustice, arising from the refusal of the
+Olympians ever to defend, to retract, to admit
+themselves in the wrong, or to accept similar
+concessions on our part. For instance, when I
+flung the cat out of an upper window (though I
+did it from no ill-feeling, and it didn't hurt the
+cat), I was ready, after a moment's reflection,
+to own I was wrong, as a gentleman should.
+But was the matter allowed to end there? I
+trow not. Again, when Harold was locked up
+in his room all day, for assault and battery
+upon a neighbour's pig&mdash;an action he would
+have scorned: being indeed on the friendliest
+terms with the porker in question&mdash;there was
+no handsome expression of regret on the discovery
+of the real culprit. What Harold had
+felt was not so much the imprisonment&mdash;indeed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
+he had very soon escaped by the window, with
+assistance from his allies, and had only gone
+back in time for his release&mdash;as the Olympian
+habit. A word would have set all right; but of
+course that word was never spoken.</p>
+
+<p>Well! The Olympians are all past and gone.
+Somehow the sun does not seem to shine so
+brightly as it used; the trackless meadows of
+old time have shrunk and dwindled away to a
+few poor acres. A saddening doubt, a dull
+suspicion, creeps over me. <i>Et in Arcadia ego</i>&mdash;I
+certainly did once inhabit Arcady. Can it
+be that I also have become an Olympian?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec001.png" width="400" height="136" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A HOLIDAY</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THE masterful wind was up and out, shouting
+and chasing, the lord of the morning.
+Poplars swayed and tossed with a roaring
+swish; dead leaves sprang aloft, and whirled
+into space; and all the clear-swept heaven
+seemed to thrill with sound like a great harp.
+It was one of the first awakenings of the year.
+The earth stretched herself, smiling in her
+sleep; and everything leapt and pulsed to the
+stir of the giant's movement. With us it was
+a whole holiday; the occasion a birthday&mdash;it
+matters not whose. Some one of us had had
+presents, and pretty conventional speeches, and
+had glowed with that sense of heroism which
+is no less sweet that nothing has been done to
+deserve it. But the holiday was for all, the
+rapture of awakening Nature for all, the various
+outdoor joys of puddles and sun and hedge-breaking
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>for all. Colt-like I ran through the
+meadows, frisking happy heels in the face of
+Nature laughing responsive. Above, the sky
+was bluest of the blue; wide pools left by the
+winter's floods flashed the colour back, true and
+brilliant; and the soft air thrilled with the germinating
+touch that seems to kindle something
+in my own small person as well as in the rash
+primrose already lurking in sheltered haunts.
+Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped,
+free of lessons, free of discipline and correction,
+for one day at least. My legs ran of themselves,
+and though I heard my name called faint and
+shrill behind, there was no stopping for me. It
+was only Harold, I concluded, and his legs,
+though shorter than mine, were good for a
+longer spurt than this. Then I heard it called
+again, but this time more faintly, with a pathetic
+break in the middle; and I pulled up short,
+recognising Charlotte's plaintive note.
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 403px;">
+<img src="images/ill03.jpg" width="403" height="600" alt="&#39;Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>She panted up anon, and dropped on the turf
+beside me. Neither had any desire for talk;
+the glow and the glory of existing on this perfect
+morning were satisfaction full and sufficient.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Where's Harold?' I asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, he's just playin' muffin-man, as usual,'
+said Charlotte with petulance. 'Fancy wanting
+to be a muffin-man on a whole holiday!'</p>
+
+<p>It was a strange craze, certainly; but Harold,
+who invented his own games and played them
+without assistance, always stuck staunchly to a
+new fad, till he had worn it quite out. Just at
+present he was a muffin-man, and day and night
+he went through passages and up and down
+staircases, ringing a noiseless bell and offering
+phantom muffins to invisible wayfarers. It
+sounds a poor sort of sport; and yet&mdash;to pass
+along busy streets of your own building, for
+ever ringing an imaginary bell and offering
+airy muffins of your own make to a bustling
+thronging crowd of your own creation&mdash;there
+were points about the game, it cannot be denied,
+though it seemed scarce in harmony with this
+radiant wind-swept morning!</p>
+
+<p>'And Edward, where is he?' I questioned
+again.</p>
+
+<p>'He's coming along by the road,' said Charlotte.
+'He'll be crouching in the ditch when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+we get there, and he's going to be a grizzly
+bear and spring out on us, only you mustn't
+say I told you, 'cos it's to be a surprise.'</p>
+
+<p>'All right,' I said magnanimously. 'Come
+on and let's be surprised.' But I could not
+help feeling that on this day of days even a
+grizzly felt misplaced and common.</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough an undeniable bear sprang out
+on us as we dropped into the road; then
+ensued shrieks, growlings, revolver-shots, and
+unrecorded heroisms, till Edward condescended
+at last to roll over and die, bulking large and
+grim, an unmitigated grizzly. It was an understood
+thing, that whoever took upon himself to
+be a bear must eventually die, sooner or later,
+even if he were the eldest born; else, life would
+have been all strife and carnage, and the Age of
+Acorns have displaced our hard-won civilisation.
+This little affair concluded with satisfaction to all
+parties concerned, we rambled along the road,
+picking up the defaulting Harold by the way,
+muffinless now and in his right and social mind.</p>
+
+<p>'What would you do?' asked Charlotte
+presently&mdash;the book of the moment always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+dominating her thoughts until it was sucked
+dry and cast aside,&mdash;'What would you do if
+you saw two lions in the road, one on each
+side, and you didn't know if they was loose
+or if they was chained up?'</p>
+
+<p>'Do?' shouted Edward valiantly, 'I should&mdash;I
+should&mdash;I should&mdash;' His boastful accents
+died away into a mumble: 'Dunno what I
+should do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shouldn't do anything,' I observed after
+consideration; and, really, it would be difficult
+to arrive at a wiser conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>'If it came to <i>doing</i>,' remarked Harold reflectively,
+'the lions would do all the doing there
+was to do, wouldn't they?'</p>
+
+<p>'But if they was <i>good</i> lions,' rejoined Charlotte,
+'they would do as they would be done by.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, but how are you to know a good lion
+from a bad one?' said Edward. 'The books
+don't tell you at all, and the lions ain't marked
+any different.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, there aren't any good lions,' said
+Harold hastily.</p>
+
+<p>'O yes, there are, heaps and heaps,' contradicted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+Edward. 'Nearly all the lions in
+the story-books are good lions. There was
+Androcles' lion, and St. Jerome's lion, and&mdash;and&mdash;and
+the Lion and the Unicorn&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'He beat the Unicorn,' observed Harold
+dubiously, 'all round the town.'</p>
+
+<p>'That <i>proves</i> he was a good lion,' cried
+Edward triumphantly. 'But the question is,
+how are you to tell 'em when you see 'em?'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>I</i> should ask Martha,' said Harold of the
+simple creed.</p>
+
+<p>Edward snorted contemptuously, then turned
+to Charlotte. 'Look here,' he said; 'let's play
+at lions, anyhow, and I'll run on to that corner
+and be a lion,&mdash;I'll be two lions, one on each
+side of the road,&mdash;and you'll come along, and
+you won't know whether I'm chained up or not,
+and that'll be the fun!'</p>
+
+<p>'No, thank you,' said Charlotte firmly;
+'you'll be chained up till I'm quite close to
+you, and then you'll be loose, and you'll tear
+me in pieces, and make my frock all dirty, and
+p'raps you'll hurt me as well. <i>I</i> know your
+lions!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'No, I won't, I swear I won't,' protested
+Edward. 'I'll be quite a new lion this time&mdash;something
+you can't even imagine.' And he
+raced off to his post. Charlotte hesitated&mdash;then
+she went timidly on, at each step growing
+less Charlotte, the mummer of a minute,
+and more the anxious Pilgrim of all time. The
+lion's wrath waxed terrible at her approach;
+his roaring filled the startled air. I waited
+until they were both thoroughly absorbed, and
+then I slipped through the hedge out of the
+trodden highway, into the vacant meadow
+spaces. It was not that I was unsociable, nor
+that I knew Edward's lions to the point of
+satiety; but the passion and the call of the
+divine morning were high in my blood. Earth
+to earth! That was the frank note, the joyous
+summons of the day; and they could not but jar
+and seem artificial, these human discussions and
+pretences, when boon nature, reticent no more,
+was singing that full-throated song of hers that
+thrills and claims control of every fibre. The
+air was wine, the moist earth-smell wine, the
+lark's song, the wafts from the cow-shed at top<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+of the field, the pant and smoke of a distant train&mdash;all
+were wine&mdash;or song, was it? or odour,
+this unity they all blent into? I had no words
+then to describe it, that earth-effluence of which
+I was so conscious; nor, indeed, have I found
+words since. I ran sideways, shouting; I dug
+glad heels into the squelching soil; I splashed
+diamond showers from puddles with a stick; I
+hurled clods skywards at random, and presently
+I somehow found myself singing. The words
+were mere nonsense&mdash;irresponsible babble; the
+tune was an improvisation, a weary, unrhythmic
+thing of rise and fall: and yet it seemed to me
+a genuine utterance, and just at that moment
+the one thing fitting and right and perfect.
+Humanity would have rejected it with scorn.
+Nature, everywhere singing in the same key,
+recognised and accepted it without a flicker of
+dissent.</p>
+
+<p>All the time the hearty wind was calling to
+me companionably from where he swung and
+bellowed in the tree-tops. 'Take me for guide
+to-day,' he seemed to plead. 'Other holidays
+you have tramped it in the track of the stolid,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
+unswerving sun; a belated truant, you have
+dragged a weary foot homeward with only a
+pale, expressionless moon for company. To-day
+why not I, the trickster, the hypocrite? I
+who whip round corners and bluster, relapse
+and evade, then rally and pursue! I can lead
+you the best and rarest dance of any; for I
+am the strong capricious one, the lord of misrule,
+and I alone am irresponsible and unprincipled,
+and obey no law.' And for me, I was
+ready enough to fall in with the fellow's humour;
+was not this a whole holiday? So we
+sheered off together, arm-in-arm, so to speak;
+and with fullest confidence I took the jigging,
+thwartwise course my chainless pilot laid for
+me.</p>
+
+<p>A whimsical comrade I found him, ere he had
+done with me. Was it in jest, or with some
+serious purpose of his own, that he brought me
+plump upon a pair of lovers, silent, face to face
+o'er a discreet unwinking stile? As a rule this
+sort of thing struck me as the most pitiful tomfoolery.
+Two calves rubbing noses through a
+gate were natural and right and within the order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
+of things; but that human beings, with salient
+interests and active pursuits beckoning them on
+from every side, could thus&mdash;! Well, it was a
+thing to hurry past, shamed of face, and think
+on no more. But this morning everything I met
+seemed to be accounted for and set in tune by
+that same magical touch in the air; and it was
+with a certain surprise that I found myself regarding
+these fatuous ones with kindliness instead
+of contempt, as I rambled by, unheeded of
+them. There was indeed some reconciling influence
+abroad, which could bring the like antics
+into harmony with bud and growth and the frolic
+air.</p>
+
+<p>A puff on the right cheek from my wilful companion
+sent me off at a fresh angle, and presently
+I came in sight of the village church,
+sitting solitary within its circle of elms. From
+forth the vestry window projected two small
+legs, gyrating, hungry for foothold, with larceny&mdash;not
+to say sacrilege&mdash;in their every wriggle:
+a godless sight for a supporter of the Establishment.
+Though the rest was hidden, I knew the
+legs well enough; they were usually attached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+to the body of Bill Saunders, the peerless bad
+boy of the village. Bill's coveted booty, too,
+I could easily guess at that; it came from the
+Vicar's store of biscuits, kept (as I knew) in
+a cupboard along with his official trappings.
+For a moment I hesitated; then I passed on
+my way. I protest I was not on Bill's side;
+but then, neither was I on the Vicar's, and
+there was something in this immoral morning
+which seemed to say that perhaps, after all,
+Bill had as much right to the biscuits as the
+Vicar, and would certainly enjoy them better;
+and anyhow it was a disputable point, and no
+business of mine. Nature, who had accepted
+me for ally, cared little who had the world's
+biscuits, and assuredly was not going to let
+any friend of hers waste his time in playing
+policeman for Society.</p>
+
+<p>He was tugging at me anew, my insistent
+guide; and I felt sure, as I rambled off in his
+wake, that he had more holiday matter to show
+me. And so, indeed, he had; and all of it
+was to the same lawless tune. Like a black
+pirate flag on the blue ocean of air, a hawk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+hung ominous; then, plummet-wise, dropped to
+the hedgerow, whence there rose, thin and shrill,
+a piteous voice of squealing. By the time I got
+there a whisk of feathers on the turf&mdash;like
+scattered playbills&mdash;was all that remained to
+tell of the tragedy just enacted. Yet Nature
+smiled and sang on, pitiless, gay, impartial. To
+her, who took no sides, there was every bit as
+much to be said for the hawk as for the chaffinch.
+Both were her children, and she would
+show no preferences.</p>
+
+<p>Further on, a hedgehog lay dead athwart
+the path&mdash;nay, more than dead; decadent, distinctly;
+a sorry sight for one that had known
+the fellow in more bustling circumstances.
+Nature might at least have paused to shed one
+tear over this rough-jacketed little son of hers,
+for his wasted aims, his cancelled ambitions,
+his whole career of usefulness cut suddenly
+short. But not a bit of it! Jubilant as ever,
+her song went bubbling on, and 'Death-in-Life'&mdash;and
+again, 'Life-in-Death,' were its
+alternate burdens. And looking round, and
+seeing the sheep-nibbled heels of turnips that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+dotted the ground, their hearts eaten out of
+them in frost-bound days now over and done, I
+seemed to discern, faintly, a something of the
+stern meaning in her valorous chant.</p>
+
+<p>My invisible companion was singing also, and
+seemed at times to be chuckling softly to himself,&mdash;doubtless
+at thought of the strange new
+lessons he was teaching me; perhaps, too, at a
+special bit of waggishness he had still in store.
+For when at last he grew weary of such insignificant
+earth-bound company, he deserted me at
+a certain spot I knew; then dropped, subsided,
+and slunk away into nothingness. I raised my
+eyes, and before me, grim and lichened, stood
+the ancient whipping-post of the village; its
+sides fretted with the initials of a generation
+that scorned its mute lesson, but still clipped
+by the stout rusty shackles that had tethered
+the wrists of such of that generation's ancestors
+as had dared to mock at order and law. Had I
+been an infant Sterne, here was a grand chance
+for sentimental output! As things were, I could
+only hurry homewards, my moral tail well between
+my legs, with an uneasy feeling, as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+glanced back over my shoulder, that there was
+more in this chance than met the eye.</p>
+
+<p>And outside our gate I found Charlotte,
+alone and crying. Edward, it seemed, had
+persuaded her to hide, in the full expectation
+of being duly found and ecstatically pounced
+upon; then he had caught sight of the butcher's
+cart, and, forgetting his obligations, had rushed
+off for a ride. Harold, it further appeared,
+greatly coveting tadpoles, and top-heavy with
+the eagerness of possession, had fallen into the
+pond. This, in itself, was nothing; but on
+attempting to sneak in by the back-door, he
+had rendered up his duckweed-bedabbled person
+into the hands of an aunt, and had been promptly
+sent off to bed; and this, on a holiday, was very
+much. The moral of the whipping-post was
+working itself out; and I was not in the least
+surprised when, on reaching home, I was seized
+upon and accused of doing something I had
+never even thought of. And my frame of mind
+was such, that I could only wish most heartily
+that I had done it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A WHITE-WASHED UNCLE</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>IN our small lives that day was eventful when
+another uncle was to come down from town,
+and submit his character and qualifications (albeit
+unconsciously) to our careful criticism.
+Earlier uncles had been weighed in the balance,
+and&mdash;alas!&mdash;found grievously wanting.
+There was Uncle Thomas&mdash;a failure from the
+first. Not that his disposition was malevolent,
+nor were his habits such as to unfit him for
+decent society; but his rooted conviction seemed
+to be that the reason of a child's existence was
+to serve as a butt for senseless adult jokes&mdash;or
+what, from the accompanying guffaws of laughter,
+appeared to be intended for jokes. Now,
+we were anxious that he should have a perfectly
+fair trial; so in the tool-house, between breakfast
+and lessons, we discussed and examined all
+his witticisms one by one, calmly, critically,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>dispassionately. It was no good: we could not
+discover any salt in them. And as only a genuine
+gift of humour could have saved Uncle
+Thomas&mdash;for he pretended to naught besides&mdash;he
+was reluctantly writ down a hopeless
+impostor.</div>
+
+<p>Uncle George&mdash;the youngest&mdash;was distinctly
+more promising. He accompanied us cheerily
+round the establishment&mdash;suffered himself to be
+introduced to each of the cows&mdash;held out the
+right hand of fellowship to the pig&mdash;and even
+hinted that a pair of pink-eyed Himalayan
+rabbits might arrive&mdash;unexpectedly&mdash;from
+town some day. We were just considering
+whether in this fertile soil an apparently accidental
+remark on the solid qualities of guinea-pigs
+or ferrets might haply blossom and bring
+forth fruit, when our governess appeared on
+the scene. Uncle George's manner at once
+underwent a complete and contemptible change.
+His interest in rational topics seemed, 'like a
+fountain's sickening pulse,' to flag and ebb
+away; and though Miss Smedley's ostensible
+purpose was to take Selina for her usual walk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+I can vouch for it that Selina spent her morning
+ratting, along with the keeper's boy and me;
+while if Miss Smedley walked with any one,
+it would appear to have been with Uncle
+George.</p>
+
+<p>But, despicable as his conduct had been, he
+underwent no hasty condemnation. The defection
+was discussed in all its bearings, but it
+seemed sadly clear at last that this uncle must
+possess some innate badness of character and
+fondness for low company. We who from daily
+experience knew Miss Smedley like a book&mdash;were
+we not only too well aware that she had
+neither accomplishments nor charms&mdash;no characteristic,
+in fact, but an inbred viciousness of
+temper and disposition? True, she knew the
+dates of the English kings by heart; but how
+could that profit Uncle George, who, having
+passed into the army, had ascended beyond the
+need of useful information? Our bows and
+arrows, on the other hand, had been freely
+placed at his disposal; and a soldier should not
+have hesitated in his choice a moment. No:
+Uncle George had fallen from grace, and was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+unanimously damned. And the non-arrival of
+the Himalayan rabbits was only another nail
+in his coffin. Uncles, therefore, were just then
+a heavy and lifeless market, and there was little
+inclination to deal. Still it was agreed that
+Uncle William, who had just returned from
+India, should have as fair a trial as the others;
+more especially as romantic possibilities might
+well be embodied in one who had held the
+gorgeous East in fee.</p>
+
+<p>Selina had kicked my shins&mdash;like the girl
+she is!&mdash;during a scuffle in the passage, and I
+was still rubbing them with one hand when I
+found that the uncle-on-approbation was half-heartedly
+shaking the other. A florid, elderly
+man, quite unmistakably nervous, he let drop
+one grimy paw after another, and, turning very
+red, with an awkward simulation of heartiness,
+'Well, h' are y' all?' he said, 'Glad to see me,
+eh?' As we could hardly, in justice, be expected
+to have formed an opinion on him at that
+early stage, we could but look at each other in
+silence; which scarce served to relieve the tension
+of the situation. Indeed, the cloud never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+really lifted during his stay. In talking things
+over later, some one put forward the suggestion
+that he must at some time or other have committed
+a stupendous crime. But I could not
+bring myself to believe that the man, though
+evidently unhappy, was really guilty of anything;
+and I caught him once or twice looking
+at us with evident kindliness, though, seeing
+himself observed, he blushed and turned away
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>When at last the atmosphere was clear of
+his depressing influence, we met despondently
+in the potato-cellar&mdash;all of us, that is, but
+Harold, who had been told off to accompany
+his relative to the station; and the feeling was
+unanimous, that, as an uncle, William could not
+be allowed to pass. Selina roundly declared
+him a beast, pointing out that he had not even
+got us a half-holiday; and, indeed, there seemed
+little to do but to pass sentence. We were
+about to put it to the vote, when Harold
+appeared on the scene; his red face, round eyes,
+and mysterious demeanour, hinting at awful
+portents. Speechless he stood a space: then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+slowly drawing his hand from the pocket of his
+knickerbockers, he displayed on a dirty palm
+one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four half-crowns! We
+could but gaze&mdash;tranced, breathless, mute.
+Never had any of us seen, in the aggregate, so
+much bullion before. Then Harold told his tale.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 328px;">
+<img src="images/ill04.jpg" width="328" height="500" alt="&#39;&quot;I took the old fellow to the station&quot;&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;&quot;I took the old fellow to the station&quot;&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'I took the old fellow to the station,' he said,
+'and as we went along I told him all about the
+stationmaster's family, and how I had seen the
+porter kissing our housemaid, and what a nice
+fellow he was, with no airs or affectation about
+him, and anything I thought would be of
+interest; but he didn't seem to pay much
+attention, but walked along puffing his cigar,
+and once I thought&mdash;I'm not certain, but I
+<i>thought</i>&mdash;I heard him say, "Well, thank God,
+that's over!" When we got to the station he
+stopped suddenly, and said, "Hold on a minute!"
+Then he shoved these into my hand in
+a frightened sort of way, and said, "Look here,
+youngster! These are for you and the other
+kids. Buy what you like&mdash;make little beasts
+of yourselves&mdash;only don't tell the old people,
+mind! Now cut away home!" So I cut.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A solemn hush fell on the assembly, broken
+first by the small Charlotte. 'I didn't know,'
+she observed dreamily, 'that there were such
+good men anywhere in the world. I hope he'll
+die to-night, for then he'll go straight to heaven!'
+But the repentant Selina bewailed herself with
+tears and sobs, refusing to be comforted; for
+that in her haste she had called this white-souled
+relative a beast.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell you what we'll do,' said Edward,
+the master-mind, rising&mdash;as he always did&mdash;to
+the situation: 'We'll christen the piebald pig
+after him&mdash;the one that hasn't got a name
+yet. And that'll show we're sorry for our
+mistake!'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;I christened that pig this morning,'
+Harold guiltily confessed; 'I christened it after
+the curate. I'm very sorry&mdash;but he came and
+bowled to me last night, after you others had
+all been sent to bed early&mdash;and somehow I felt
+I <i>had</i> to do it!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but that doesn't count,' said Edward
+hastily; 'because we weren't all there. We'll
+take that christening off, and call it Uncle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+William. And you can save up the curate for
+the next litter!'</p>
+
+<p>And the motion being agreed to without a
+division, the House went into Committee of
+Supply.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec002.png" width="400" height="147" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>'LET'S pretend,' suggested Harold, 'that
+we're Cavaliers and Roundheads; and
+<i>you</i> be a Roundhead!'</div>
+
+<p>'O bother,' I replied drowsily, 'we pretended
+that yesterday; and it's not my turn to be a
+Roundhead, anyhow.' The fact is, I was lazy,
+and the call to arms fell on indifferent ears.
+We three younger ones were stretched at
+length in the orchard. The sun was hot, the
+season merry June, and never (I thought) had
+there been such wealth and riot of buttercups
+throughout the lush grass. Green-and-gold was
+the dominant key that day. Instead of active
+'pretence' with its shouts and its perspiration,
+how much better&mdash;I held&mdash;to lie at ease and
+pretend to one's self, in green and golden
+fancies, slipping the husk and passing, a careless
+lounger, through a sleepy imaginary world all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+gold and green! But the persistent Harold
+was not to be fobbed off.</p>
+
+<p>'Well then,' he began afresh, 'let's pretend
+we're Knights of the Round Table; and (with
+a rush) <i>I'll</i> be Lancelot!'</p>
+
+<p>'I won't play unless I'm Lancelot,' I said.
+I didn't mean it really, but the game of Knights
+always began with this particular contest.</p>
+
+<p>'O <i>please</i>,' implored Harold. 'You know
+when Edward's here I never get a chance of
+being Lancelot. I haven't been Lancelot for
+weeks!'</p>
+
+<p>Then I yielded gracefully. 'All right,' I
+said. 'I'll be Tristram.'</p>
+
+<p>'O, but you can't,' cried Harold again.
+'Charlotte has always been Tristram. She
+won't play unless she's allowed to be Tristram!
+Be somebody else this time.'</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte said nothing, but breathed hard,
+looking straight before her. The peerless
+hunter and harper was her special hero of
+romance, and rather than see the part in less
+appreciative hands, she would have gone back
+in tears to the stuffy schoolroom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't care,' I said: 'I'll be anything. I'll
+be Sir Kay. Come on!'</p>
+
+<p>Then once more in this country's story the
+mail-clad knights paced through the greenwood
+shaw, questing adventure, redressing wrong;
+and bandits, five to one, broke and fled discomfited
+to their caves. Once more were
+damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and
+giants, in every corner of the orchard, deprived
+of their already superfluous number of heads;
+while Palomides the Saracen waited for us by
+the well, and Sir Breuse Saunce Pit&eacute; vanished
+in craven flight before the skilled spear that
+was his terror and his bane. Once more the
+lists were dight in Camelot, and all was gay
+with shimmer of silk and gold; the earth shook
+with thunder of hooves, ash-staves flew in
+splinters, and the firmament rang to the clash
+of sword on helm. The varying fortune of the
+day swung doubtful&mdash;now on this side, now
+on that; till at last Lancelot, grim and great,
+thrusting through the press, unhorsed Sir Tristram
+(an easy task), and bestrode her, threatening
+doom; while the Cornish knight, forgetting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+hard-won fame of old, cried piteously, 'You're
+hurting me, I tell you! and you're tearing my
+frock!' Then it happed that Sir Kay, hurtling
+to the rescue, stopped short in his stride, catching
+sight suddenly, through apple-boughs, of a
+gleam of scarlet afar off; while the confused
+tramp of many horses, mingled with talk and
+laughter, was borne to the ears of his fellow-champions
+and himself.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/ill05.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="&#39;Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'What is it?' inquired Tristram, sitting up
+and shaking out her curls; while Lancelot forsook
+the clanging lists and trotted nimbly to
+the boundary-hedge.</p>
+
+<p>I stood spell-bound for a moment longer, and
+then, with a cry of 'Soldiers!' I was off to the
+hedge, Sir Tristram picking herself up and
+scurrying after us.</p>
+
+<p>Down the road they came, two and two, at an
+easy walk; scarlet flamed in the eye, bits jingled
+and saddles squeaked delightfully; while the
+men, in a halo of dust, smoked their short
+clays like the heroes they were. In a swirl of
+intoxicating glory the troop clinked and clattered
+by, while we shouted and waved, jumping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+up and down, and the big jolly horsemen
+acknowledged the salute with easy condescension.
+The moment they were past we were
+through the hedge and after them. Soldiers
+were not the common stuff of everyday life.
+There had been nothing like this since the
+winter before last, when on a certain afternoon&mdash;bare
+of leaf and monochromatic in its hue
+of sodden fallow and frost-nipt copse&mdash;suddenly
+the hounds had burst through the fence with
+their mellow cry, and all the paddock was for
+the minute reverberant of thudding hoof and
+dotted with glancing red. But this was better,
+since it could only mean that blows and bloodshed
+were in the air.</p>
+
+<p>'Is there going to be a battle?' panted Harold,
+hardly able to keep up for excitement.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course there is,' I replied. 'We're just
+in time. Come on!'</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps I ought to have known better; and
+yet&mdash;&mdash;? The pigs and poultry, with whom we
+chiefly consorted, could instruct us little concerning
+the peace that lapped in these latter
+days our seagirt realm. In the schoolroom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+we were just now dallying with the Wars of the
+Roses; and did not legends of the country-side
+inform us how cavaliers had once galloped up
+and down these very lanes from their quarters
+in the village? Here, now, were soldiers unmistakable;
+and if their business was not fighting,
+what was it? Sniffing the joy of battle, we
+followed hard in their tracks.</p>
+
+<p>'Won't Edward be sorry,' puffed Harold,
+'that he's begun that beastly Latin?'</p>
+
+<p>It did, indeed, seem hard. Edward, the most
+martial spirit of us all, was drearily conjugating
+<i>amo</i> (of all verbs!) between four walls; while
+Selina, who ever thrilled ecstatic to a red coat,
+was struggling with the uncouth German tongue.
+'Age,' I reflected, 'carries its penalties.'</p>
+
+<p>It was a grievous disappointment to us that
+the troop passed through the village unmolested.
+Every cottage, I pointed out to my companions,
+ought to have been loopholed, and strongly held.
+But no opposition was offered to the soldiers:
+who, indeed, conducted themselves with a recklessness
+and a want of precaution that seemed
+simply criminal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At the last cottage a transitory gleam of
+common sense flickered across me, and, turning
+on Charlotte, I sternly ordered her back. The
+small maiden, docile but exceedingly dolorous,
+dragged reluctant feet homewards, heavy at
+heart that she was to behold no stout fellows
+slain that day; but Harold and I held steadily
+on, expecting every instant to see the environing
+hedges crackle and spit forth the leaden death.</p>
+
+<p>'Will they be Indians?' asked my brother
+(meaning the enemy) 'or Roundheads, or
+what?'</p>
+
+<p>I reflected. Harold always required direct
+straightforward answers&mdash;not faltering suppositions.</p>
+
+<p>'They won't be Indians,' I replied at last;
+'nor yet Roundheads. There haven't been
+any Roundheads seen about here for a long
+time. They'll be Frenchmen.'</p>
+
+<p>Harold's face fell. 'All right,' he said:
+'Frenchmen'll do; but I did hope they'd
+be Indians.'</p>
+
+<p>'If they were going to be Indians,' I explained,
+'I&mdash;I don't think I'd go on. Because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+when Indians take you prisoner they scalp
+you first, and then burn you at the stake. But
+Frenchmen don't do that sort of thing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you quite sure?' asked Harold doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Quite,' I replied. 'Frenchmen only shut
+you up in a thing called the Bastille; and then
+you get a file sent in to you in a loaf of bread,
+and saw the bars through, and slide down a
+rope, and they all fire at you&mdash;but they don't
+hit you&mdash;and you run down to the seashore as
+hard as you can, and swim off to a British
+frigate, and there you are!'</p>
+
+<p>Harold brightened up again. The programme
+was rather attractive. 'If they try to take us
+prisoner,' he said, 'we&mdash;we won't run, will
+we?'</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the craven foe was a long time
+showing himself; and we were reaching strange
+outland country, uncivilised, wherein lions might
+be expected to prowl at nightfall. I had a
+stitch in my side, and both Harold's stockings
+had come down. Just as I was beginning to
+have gloomy doubts of the proverbial courage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+of Frenchmen, the officer called out something,
+the men closed up, and, breaking into a trot,
+the troops&mdash;already far ahead&mdash;vanished out
+of our sight. With a sinking at the heart, I
+began to suspect we had been fooled.</p>
+
+<p>'Are they charging?' cried Harold, very
+weary, but rallying gamely.</p>
+
+<p>'I think not,' I replied doubtfully. 'When
+there's going to be a charge, the officer always
+makes a speech, and then they draw their swords
+and the trumpets blow, and&mdash;&mdash;but let's try a
+short cut. We may catch them up yet.'</p>
+
+<p>So we struck across the fields and into
+another road, and pounded down that, and
+then over more fields, panting, down-hearted,
+yet hoping for the best. The sun went in, and
+a thin drizzle began to fall; we were muddy,
+breathless, almost dead-beat; but we blundered
+on, till at last we struck a road more brutally,
+more callously unfamiliar than any road I ever
+looked upon. Not a hint nor a sign of friendly
+direction or assistance on the dogged white face
+of it! There was no longer any disguising it:
+we were hopelessly lost. The small rain continued<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+steadily, the evening began to come
+on. Really there are moments when a fellow
+is justified in crying; and I would have cried
+too, if Harold had not been there. That right-minded
+child regarded an elder brother as a
+veritable god; and I could see that he felt
+himself as secure as if a whole Brigade of
+Guards had hedged him round with protecting
+bayonets. But I dreaded sore lest he should
+begin again with his questions.</p>
+
+<p>As I gazed in dumb appeal on the face
+of unresponsive nature, the sound of nearing
+wheels sent a pulse of hope through my being:
+increasing to rapture as I recognised in the
+approaching vehicle the familiar carriage of the
+old doctor. If ever a god emerged from a
+machine, it was when this heaven-sent friend,
+recognising us, stopped and jumped out with a
+cheery hail. Harold rushed up to him at once.
+'Have you been there?' he cried. 'Was it a
+jolly fight? who beat? were there many people
+killed?'</p>
+
+<p>The doctor appeared puzzled. I briefly explained
+the situation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I see,' said the doctor, looking grave and
+twisting his face this way and that. 'Well,
+the fact is, there isn't going to be any battle
+to-day. It's been put off, on account of the
+change in the weather. You will have due
+notice of the renewal of hostilities. And now
+you'd better jump in and I'll drive you home.
+You've been running a fine rig! Why, you
+might have both been taken and shot as spies!'</p>
+
+<p>This special danger had never even occurred
+to us. The thrill of it accentuated the cosy
+homelike feeling of the cushions we nestled into
+as we rolled homewards. The doctor beguiled
+the journey with blood-curdling narratives of
+personal adventure in the tented field, he having
+followed the profession of arms (so it seemed)
+in every quarter of the globe. Time, the destroyer
+of all things beautiful, subsequently
+revealed the baselessness of these legends; but
+what of that? There are higher things than
+truth; and we were almost reconciled, by the
+time we were put down at our gate, to the fact
+that the battle had been postponed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE FINDING OF THE PRINCESS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>IT was the day I was promoted to a toothbrush.
+The girls, irrespective of age, had
+been thus distinguished some time before; why,
+we boys could never rightly understand, except
+that it was part and parcel of a system of
+studied favouritism on behalf of creatures both
+physically inferior and (as was shown by a
+fondness for tale-bearing) of weaker mental
+fibre to us boys. It was not that we yearned
+after these strange instruments in themselves.
+Edward, indeed, applied his to the scrubbing-out
+of his squirrel's cage, and for personal use,
+when a superior eye was grim on him, borrowed
+Harold's or mine, indifferently. But the nimbus
+of distinction that clung to them&mdash;that we
+coveted exceedingly. What more, indeed, was
+there to ascend to, before the remote, but still
+possible, razor and strop?</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>Perhaps the exaltation had mounted to my
+head; or nature and the perfect morning joined
+to hint at disaffection. Anyhow, having breakfasted,
+and triumphantly repeated the collect
+I had broken down in the last Sunday&mdash;'t was
+one without rhythm or alliteration: a most
+objectionable collect&mdash;having achieved thus
+much, the small natural man in me rebelled,
+and I vowed, as I straddled and spat about the
+stable-yard in feeble imitation of the coachman,
+that lessons might go to the Inventor of them.
+It was only geography that morning, any way:
+and the practical thing was worth any quantity
+of bookish theoric. As for me, I was going on
+my travels, and imports and exports, populations
+and capitals, might very well wait while I explored
+the breathing coloured world outside.</p>
+
+<p>True, a fellow-rebel was wanted; and Harold
+might, as a rule, have been counted on with
+certainty. But just then Harold was very
+proud. The week before he had 'gone into
+tables,' and had been endowed with a new slate,
+having a miniature sponge attached wherewith
+we washed the faces of Charlotte's dolls, thereby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+producing an unhealthy pallor which struck
+terror into the child's heart, always timorous
+regarding epidemic visitations. As to 'tables,'
+nobody knew exactly what they were, least of
+all Harold; but it was a step over the heads
+of the rest, and therefore a subject for self-adulation
+and&mdash;generally speaking&mdash;airs; so
+that Harold, hugging his slate and his chains,
+was out of the question now. In such a matter,
+girls were worse than useless, as wanting the
+necessary tenacity of will and contempt for self-constituted
+authority. So eventually I slipped
+through the hedge a solitary protestant, and
+issued forth on the lane what time the rest of the
+civilised world was sitting down to lessons.</p>
+
+<p>The scene was familiar enough; and yet, this
+morning, how different it all seemed! The act,
+with its daring, tinted everything with new
+strange hues; affecting the individual with a
+sort of bruised feeling just below the pit of the
+stomach, that was intensified whenever his
+thoughts flew back to the ink-stained smelly
+schoolroom. And could this be really me? or
+was I only contemplating, from the schoolroom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+aforesaid, some other jolly young mutineer,
+faring forth under the genial sun? Anyhow,
+here was the friendly well, in its old place, half-way
+up the lane. Hither the yoke-shouldering
+village-folk were wont to come to fill their
+clinking buckets; when the drippings made
+worms of wet in the thick dust of the road.
+They had flat wooden crosses inside each pail,
+which floated on the top and (we were instructed)
+served to prevent the water from
+slopping over. We used to wonder by what
+magic this strange principle worked, and who
+first invented the crosses, and whether he got
+a peerage for it. But indeed the well was a
+centre of mystery, for a hornet's nest was
+somewhere hard by, and the very thought was
+fearsome. Wasps we knew well and disdained,
+storming them in their fastnesses. But these
+great Beasts, vestured in angry orange, three
+stings from which&mdash;so 'twas averred&mdash;would
+kill a horse, these were of a different kidney,
+and their dreadful drone suggested prudence
+and retreat. At this time neither villagers nor
+hornets encroached on the stillness: lessons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+apparently, pervaded all nature. So, after
+dabbling awhile in the well&mdash;what boy has
+ever passed a bit of water without messing in
+it?&mdash;I scrambled through the hedge, shunning
+the hornet-haunted side, and struck into the
+silence of the copse.</p>
+
+<p>If the lane had been deserted, this was loneliness
+become personal. Here mystery lurked
+and peeped; here brambles caught and held
+you with a purpose of their own; here saplings
+whipped your face with human spite. The
+copse, too, proved vaster in extent, more direfully
+drawn out, than one would ever have
+guessed from its frontage on the lane: and I
+was really glad when at last the wood opened
+and sloped down to a streamlet brawling forth
+into the sunlight. By this cheery companion
+I wandered along, conscious of little but that
+Nature, in providing store of water-rats, had
+thoughtfully furnished provender of right-sized
+stones. Rapids, also, there were, telling of
+canoes and portages&mdash;crinkling bays and inlets&mdash;caves
+for pirates and hidden treasures&mdash;the
+wise Dame had forgotten nothing&mdash;till at last,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+after what lapse of time I know not, my further
+course, though not the stream's, was barred by
+some six feet of stout wire netting, stretched
+from side to side just where a thick hedge,
+arching till it touched, forbade all further
+view.</p>
+
+<p>The excitement of the thing was becoming
+thrilling. A Black Flag must surely be fluttering
+close by? Here was most plainly a malignant
+contrivance of the Pirates, designed to
+baffle our gun-boats when we dashed up-stream
+to shell them from their lair! A gun-boat,
+indeed, might well have hesitated, so stout was
+the netting, so close the hedge. But I spied
+where a rabbit was wont to pass, close down
+by the water's edge; where a rabbit could go
+a boy could follow, howbeit stomach-wise and
+with one leg in the stream; so the passage was
+achieved, and I stood inside, safe but breathless
+at the sight.</p>
+
+<p>Gone was the brambled waste, gone the
+flickering tangle of woodland. Instead, terrace
+after terrace of shaven sward, stone-edged, urn-cornered,
+stepped delicately down to where the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+stream, now tamed and educated, passed from
+one to another marble basin, in which on occasion
+gleams of red hinted at gold-fish poised
+among the spreading water-lilies. The scene
+lay silent and slumbrous in the brooding noon-day
+sun: the drowsing peacock squatted humped
+on the lawn, no fish leaped in the pools, no bird
+declared himself from the trim secluding hedges.
+Self-confessed it was here, then, at last, the
+Garden of Sleep!</p>
+
+<p>Two things, in those old days, I held in
+especial distrust: gamekeepers and gardeners.
+Seeing, however, no baleful apparitions of
+either quality, I pursued my way between rich
+flower-beds, in search of the necessary Princess.
+Conditions declared her presence patently as
+trumpets; without this centre such surroundings
+could not exist. A pavilion, gold-topped,
+wreathed with lush jessamine, beckoned with
+a special significance over close-set shrubs.
+There, if anywhere, She should be enshrined.
+Instinct, and some knowledge of the habits of
+princesses, triumphed; for (indeed) there She
+was! In no tranced repose, however, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+laughingly, struggling to disengage her hand
+from the grasp of a grown-up man who occupied
+the marble bench with her. (As to age,
+I suppose now that the two swung in respective
+scales that pivoted on twenty. But children
+heed no minor distinctions. To them, the
+inhabited world is composed of the two main
+divisions: children and upgrown people; the
+latter in no way superior to the former&mdash;only
+hopelessly different. These two, then, belonged
+to the grown-up section.) I paused, thinking it
+strange they should prefer seclusion when there
+were fish to be caught, and butterflies to hunt
+in the sun outside; and as I cogitated thus,
+the grown-up man caught sight of me.</p>
+
+<p>'Hallo, sprat!' he said with some abruptness;
+'Where do you spring from?'</p>
+
+<p>'I came up the stream,' I explained politely
+and comprehensively, 'and I was only looking
+for the Princess.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you are a water-baby,' he replied.
+'And what do you think of the Princess, now
+you've found her?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think she is lovely,' I said (and doubtless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+I was right, having never learned to flatter).
+'But she's wide-awake, so I suppose somebody
+has kissed her!'</p>
+
+<p>This very natural deduction moved the
+grown-up man to laughter; but the Princess,
+turning red and jumping up, declared that it
+was time for lunch.</p>
+
+<p>'Come along, then,' said the grown-up man;
+'and you too, water-baby. Come and have
+something solid. You must want it.'</p>
+
+<p>I accompanied them without any feeling of
+false delicacy. The world, as known to me,
+was spread with food each several mid-day,
+and the particular table one sat at seemed a
+matter of no importance. The palace was very
+sumptuous and beautiful, just what a palace
+ought to be; and we were met by a stately lady,
+rather more grown-up than the Princess&mdash;apparently
+her mother. My friend the Man was
+very kind, and introduced me as the Captain,
+saying I had just run down from Aldershot. I
+didn't know where Aldershot was, but I had no
+manner of doubt that he was perfectly right.
+As a rule, indeed, grown-up people are fairly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+correct on matters of fact; it is in the higher
+gift of imagination that they are so sadly to
+seek.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 316px;">
+<img src="images/ill06.jpg" width="316" height="500" alt="&#39;Lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The lunch was excellent and varied. Another
+gentleman in beautiful clothes&mdash;a lord
+presumably&mdash;lifted me into a high carved
+chair, and stood behind it, brooding over me
+like a Providence. I endeavoured to explain
+who I was and where I had come from, and
+to impress the company with my own toothbrush
+and Harold's tables; but either they
+were stupid&mdash;or is it a characteristic of Fairyland
+that every one laughs at the most ordinary
+remarks? My friend the Man said good-naturedly,
+'All right, Water-baby; you came up
+the stream, and that's good enough for us.'
+The lord&mdash;a reserved sort of man, I thought&mdash;took
+no share in the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>After lunch I walked on the terrace with
+the Princess and my friend the Man, and was
+very proud. And I told him what I was going
+to be, and he told me what he was going to be;
+and then I remarked, 'I suppose you two are
+going to get married?' He only laughed, after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+the Fairy fashion. 'Because if you aren't,' I
+added, 'you really ought to': meaning only
+that a man who discovered a Princess, living
+in the right sort of Palace like this, and didn't
+marry her there and then, was false to all
+recognised tradition.</p>
+
+<p>They laughed again, and my friend suggested
+I should go down to the pond and look at the
+gold-fish, while they went for a stroll. I was
+sleepy, and assented; but before they left me,
+the grown-up man put two half-crowns in my
+hand, for the purpose, he explained, of treating
+the other water-babies. I was so touched by
+this crowning mark of friendship that I nearly
+cried; and I thought much more of his generosity
+than of the fact that the Princess, ere she
+moved away, stooped down and kissed me.</p>
+
+<p>I watched them disappear down the path&mdash;how
+naturally arms seem to go round waists in
+Fairyland!&mdash;and then, my cheek on the cool
+marble, lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped
+into dreamland out of real and magic world
+alike. When I woke, the sun had gone in, a
+chill wind set all the leaves a-whispering, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+the peacock on the lawn was harshly calling up
+the rain. A wild unreasoning panic possessed
+me, and I sped out of the garden like a guilty
+thing, wriggled through the rabbit-run, and
+threaded my doubtful way homewards, hounded
+by nameless terrors. The half-crowns happily
+remained solid and real to the touch; but could
+I hope to bear such treasure safely through the
+brigand-haunted wood? It was a dirty, weary
+little object that entered its home, at nightfall,
+by the unassuming aid of the scullery-window:
+and only to be sent tealess to bed seemed infinite
+mercy to him. Officially tealess, that is;
+for, as was usual after such escapades, a sympathetic
+housemaid, coming delicately by backstairs,
+stayed him with chunks of cold pudding
+and condolence, till his small skin was tight as
+any drum. Then, nature asserting herself, I
+passed into the comforting kingdom of sleep,
+where, a golden carp of fattest build, I oared
+it in translucent waters with a new half-crown
+snug under right fin and left; and thrust up a
+nose through water-lily leaves to be kissed by
+a rose-flushed Princess.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SAWDUST AND SIN</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>A &nbsp; BELT of rhododendrons grew close down
+to one side of our pond; and along the
+edge of it many things flourished rankly. If you
+crept through the undergrowth and crouched by
+the water's rim, it was easy&mdash;if your imagination
+were in healthy working order&mdash;to transport
+yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical
+forest. Overhead the monkeys chattered, parrots
+flashed from bough to bough, strange large
+blossoms shone all round you, and the push and
+rustle of great beasts moving unseen thrilled
+you deliciously. And if you lay down with
+your nose an inch or two from the water, it
+was not long ere the old sense of proportion
+vanished clean away. The glittering insects
+that darted to and fro on its surface became
+sea-monsters dire, the gnats that hung above
+them swelled to albatrosses, and the pond itself
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>stretched out into a vast inland sea, whereon a
+navy might ride secure, and whence at any
+moment the hairy scalp of a sea-serpent might
+be seen to emerge.</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 338px;">
+<img src="images/ill07.jpg" width="338" height="500" alt="&#39;It was easy .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. to transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;It was easy .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. to transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is impossible, however, to play at tropical
+forests properly, when homely accents of the
+human voice intrude; and all my hopes of
+seeing a tiger seized by a crocodile while
+drinking (<i>vide</i> picture-books, <i>passim</i>) vanished
+abruptly, and earth resumed her old dimensions,
+when the sound of Charlotte's prattle somewhere
+hard by broke in on my prim&aelig;val seclusion.
+Looking out from the bushes, I saw her trotting
+towards an open space of lawn the other side
+the pond, chattering to herself in her accustomed
+fashion, a doll tucked under either arm, and her
+brow knit with care. Propping up her double
+burthen against a friendly stump, she sat down
+in front of them, as full of worry and anxiety as
+a Chancellor on a Budget night.</p>
+
+<p>Her victims, who stared resignedly in front
+of them, were recognisable as Jerry and Rosa.
+Jerry hailed from far Japan: his hair was
+straight and black, his one garment cotton of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+a simple blue; and his reputation was distinctly
+bad. Jerome was his proper name, from his
+supposed likeness to the holy man who hung in
+a print on the staircase; though a shaven crown
+was the only thing in common 'twixt Western
+saint and Eastern sinner. Rosa was typical
+British, from her flaxen poll to the stout calves
+she displayed so liberally; and in character she
+was of the blameless order of those who have
+not yet been found out.</p>
+
+<p>I suspected Jerry from the first. There was
+a latent devilry in his slant eyes as he sat there
+moodily; and knowing what he was capable of,
+I scented trouble in store for Charlotte. Rosa
+I was not so sure about; she sat demurely and
+upright, and looked far away into the tree-tops
+in a visionary, world-forgetting sort of way; yet
+the prim purse of her mouth was somewhat
+overdone, and her eyes glittered unnaturally.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, I'm going to begin where I left off,'
+said Charlotte, regardless of stops, and thumping
+the turf with her fist excitedly: 'and you
+must pay attention, 'cos this is a treat, to have a
+story told you before you're put to bed. Well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+so the White Rabbit scuttled off down the
+passage and Alice hoped he'd come back 'cos
+he had a waistcoat on and her flamingo flew up
+a tree&mdash;but we haven't got to that part yet, you
+must wait a minute, and&mdash;where had I got to?'</p>
+
+<p>Jerry only remained passive until Charlotte
+had got well under way, and then began to
+heel over quietly in Rosa's direction. His
+head fell on her plump shoulder, causing her
+to start nervously.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte seized and shook him with vigour.
+'O Jerry,' she cried piteously, 'if you're not
+going to be good, how ever shall I tell you my
+story?'</p>
+
+<p>Jerry's face was injured innocence itself.
+'Blame if you like, Madam,' he seemed to
+say, 'the eternal laws of gravitation, but not a
+helpless puppet, who is also an orphan and a
+stranger in the land.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now we'll go on,' began Charlotte once
+more. 'So she got into the garden at last&mdash;I've
+left out a lot but you won't care, I'll tell
+you some other time&mdash;and they were all playing
+croquet, and that's where the flamingo comes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+in, and the Queen shouted out, "Off with her
+head!"'</p>
+
+<p>At this point Jerry collapsed forward, suddenly
+and completely, his bald pate between
+his knees. Charlotte was not very angry this
+time. The sudden development of tragedy in
+the story had evidently been too much for the
+poor fellow. She straightened him out, wiped
+his nose, and, after trying him in various positions,
+to which he refused to adapt himself,
+she propped him against the shoulder of the
+(apparently) unconscious Rosa. Then my eyes
+were opened, and the full measure of Jerry's
+infamy became apparent. This, then, was what
+he had been playing up for! The rascal had
+designs, had he? I resolved to keep him under
+close observation.</p>
+
+<p>'If you'd been in the garden,' went on
+Charlotte reproachfully, 'and flopped down
+like that when the Queen said "Off with his
+head!" she'd have offed with your head; but
+Alice wasn't that sort of girl at all. She just
+said, "I'm not afraid of you, you're nothing
+but a pack of cards"&mdash;O dear! I've got to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+the end already, and I hadn't begun hardly! I
+never can make my stories last out! Never
+mind, I'll tell you another one.'</p>
+
+<p>Jerry didn't seem to care, now he had gained
+his end, whether the stories lasted out or not.
+He was nestling against Rosa's plump form
+with a look of satisfaction that was simply
+idiotic; and one arm had disappeared from
+view&mdash;was it round her waist? Rosa's natural
+blush seemed deeper than usual, her head inclined
+shyly&mdash;it must have been round her
+waist.</p>
+
+<p>'If it wasn't so near your bedtime,' continued
+Charlotte reflectively, 'I'd tell you a nice story
+with a bogy in it. But you'd be frightened,
+and you'd dream of bogies all night. So I'll
+tell you one about a White Bear, only you
+mustn't scream when the bear says 'Wow,' like
+I used to, 'cos he's a good bear really&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Here Rosa fell flat on her back in the deadest
+of faints. Her limbs were rigid, her eyes glassy.
+What had Jerry been doing? It must have
+been something very bad, for her to take on
+like that. I scrutinised him carefully, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+Charlotte ran to comfort the damsel. He appeared
+to be whistling a tune and regarding the
+scenery. If I only possessed Jerry's command
+of feature, I thought to myself, half regretfully,
+I would never be found out in anything.</p>
+
+<p>'It's all your fault, Jerry,' said Charlotte
+reproachfully, when the lady had been restored
+to consciousness: 'Rosa's as good as gold
+except when you make her wicked. I'd put
+you in the corner, only a stump hasn't got a
+corner&mdash;wonder why that is? Thought everything
+had corners. Never mind, you'll have to
+sit with your face to the wall&mdash;so. Now you
+can sulk if you like!'</p>
+
+<p>Jerry seemed to hesitate a moment between
+the bliss of indulgence in sulks with a sense of
+injury, and the imperious summons of beauty
+waiting to be wooed at his elbow; then, over-mastered
+by his passion, he fell sideways across
+Rosa's lap. One arm stuck stiffly upwards, as
+in passionate protestation; his amorous countenance
+was full of entreaty. Rosa hesitated&mdash;wavered&mdash;yielded,
+crushing his slight frame
+under the weight of her full-bodied surrender.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Charlotte had stood a good deal, but it was
+possible to abuse even her patience. Snatching
+Jerry from his lawless embraces, she reversed
+him across her knee, and then&mdash;the outrage
+offered to the whole superior sex in Jerry's
+hapless person was too painful to witness; but
+though I turned my head away the sound of
+brisk slaps continued to reach my tingling ears.
+When I dared to look again, Jerry was sitting
+up as before; his garment, somewhat crumpled,
+was restored to its original position; but his
+pallid countenance was set hard. Knowing as
+I did, only too well, what a volcano of passion
+and shame must be seething under that impassive
+exterior, for the moment I felt sorry for him.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa's face was still buried in her frock; it
+might have been shame, it might have been
+grief for Jerry's sufferings. But the callous
+Japanese never even looked her way. His
+heart was exceeding bitter within him. In
+merely following up his natural impulses he had
+run his head against convention, and learned
+how hard a thing it was; and the sunshiny
+world was all black to him. Even Charlotte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+softened somewhat at the sight of his rigid
+misery. 'If you'll say you're sorry, Jerome,'
+she said, 'I'll say I'm sorry, too.'</p>
+
+<p>Jerry only dropped his shoulders against the
+stump and stared out in the direction of his dear
+native Japan, where love was no sin, and smacking
+had not been introduced. Why had he ever
+left it? He would go back to-morrow! And
+yet there were obstacles: another grievance.
+Nature, in endowing Jerry with every grace of
+form and feature, along with a sensitive soul,
+had somehow forgotten the gift of locomotion.</p>
+
+<p>There was a crackling in the bushes behind
+me, with sharp short pants as of a small steam-engine,
+and Rollo, the black retriever, just
+released from his chain by some friendly hand,
+burst through the underwood, seeking congenial
+company. I joyfully hailed him to stop and be
+a panther, but he sped away round the pond,
+upset Charlotte with a boisterous caress, and
+seizing Jerry by the middle, disappeared with
+him down the drive. Charlotte panting, raved
+behind the swift-footed avenger of crime; Rosa
+lay dishevelled, bereft of consciousness; Jerry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+himself spread helpless arms to heaven, and I
+almost thought I heard a cry for mercy, a tardy
+promise of amendment. But it was too late.
+The Black Man had got Jerry at last; and
+though the tear of sensibility might bedew an
+eye or two for his lost sake, no one who really
+knew him could deny the justice of his fate.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec003.png" width="400" height="162" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+<h2>'YOUNG ADAM CUPID'</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>NOBODY would have suspected Edward
+of being in love, had it not been that
+after breakfast, with an overacted carelessness,
+'Anybody who likes,' he said, 'can feed my
+rabbits,' and he disappeared, with a jauntiness
+that deceived nobody, in the direction of the
+orchard. Now kingdoms might totter and reel,
+and convulsions play skittles with the map of
+Europe; but the iron unwritten law prevailed,
+that each boy severely fed his own rabbits.
+There was good ground, then, for suspicion and
+alarm; and while the lettuce leaves were being
+drawn through the wires, Harold and I conferred
+seriously on the situation.</div>
+
+<p>It may be thought that the affair was none
+of our business; and indeed we cared little
+as individuals. We were only concerned as
+members of a corporation, for each of whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+the mental or physical ailment of one of his
+fellows might have far-reaching effects. It was
+thought best that Harold, as least open to suspicion
+of motive, should be despatched to probe
+and peer. His instructions were, to proceed by
+a report on the health of our rabbits in particular;
+to glide gently into a discussion concerning
+rabbits in general, their customs, practices, and
+vices; and to pass thence, by a natural transition,
+to the female sex, the inherent flaws in its
+composition, and the reasons for regarding it
+(speaking broadly) as dirt. He was especially
+to be very diplomatic, and then to return and
+report progress. He departed on his mission
+gaily; but his absence was short, and his return,
+discomfited and in tears, seemed to betoken
+some want of parts for diplomacy. He had
+found Edward, it appeared, pacing the orchard,
+with the sort of set smile that mountebanks
+wear in their precarious antics, fixed painfully
+on his face, as with pins. Harold had opened
+well, on the rabbit subject, but, with a fatal
+confusion between the abstract and the concrete,
+had then gone on to remark that Edward's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
+lop-eared doe, with her long hindlegs and contemptuous
+twitch of the nose, always reminded
+him of Sabina Larkin (a nine-year-old damsel,
+child of a neighbouring farmer): at which point
+Edward, it would seem, had turned upon and
+savagely maltreated him, twisting his arm and
+punching him in the short ribs. So that Harold
+returned to the rabbit-hutches preceded by long-drawn
+wails: anon wishing, with tears and sobs,
+that he were a man, to kick his love-lorn
+brother; anon lamenting that ever he had been
+born.</p>
+
+<p>I was not big enough to stand up to Edward
+personally, so I had to console the sufferer by
+allowing him to grease the wheels of the donkey-cart&mdash;a
+luscious treat that had been specially
+reserved for me, a week past, by the gardener's
+boy, for putting in a good word on his behalf
+with the new kitchen-maid. Harold was soon
+all smiles and grease; and I was not, on the
+whole, dissatisfied with the significant hint that
+had been gained as to the <i>fons et origo mali</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, means were at hand for resolving
+any doubts on the subject, since the morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+was Sunday, and already the bells were ringing
+for church. Lest the connexion may not be
+evident at first sight, I should explain that
+the gloomy period of church-time, with its
+enforced inaction and its lack of real interest&mdash;passed,
+too, within sight of all that the village
+held of fairest&mdash;was just the one when a young
+man's fancies lightly turned to thoughts of love.
+The rest of the week afforded no leisure for
+such trifling; but in church&mdash;well, there was
+really nothing else to do! True, noughts-and-crosses
+might be indulged in on flyleaves of
+prayer-books while the Litany dragged its slow
+length along; but what balm or what solace
+could be found for the Sermon? Naturally the
+eye, wandering here and there among the serried
+ranks, made bold untrammelled choice among
+our fair fellow-supplicants. It was in this way
+that, some months earlier, under the exceptional
+strain of the Athanasian Creed, my roving fancy
+had settled upon the baker's wife as a fit object
+for a life-long devotion. Her riper charms had
+conquered a heart which none of her be-muslined
+tittering juniors had been able to subdue; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+that she was already wedded had never occurred
+to me as any bar to my affection. Edward's
+general demeanour, then, during morning service
+was safe to convict him; but there was also a
+special test for the particular case. It happened
+that we sat in a transept, and, the Larkins being
+behind us, Edward's only chance of feasting on
+Sabina's charms was in the all-too fleeting interval
+when we swung round eastwards. I was not
+mistaken. During the singing of the Benedictus
+the impatient one made several false starts, and
+at last he slewed fairly round before 'As it was
+in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be' was
+half finished. The evidence was conclusive: a
+court of law could have desired no better.</p>
+
+<p>The fact being patent, the next thing was
+to grapple with it; and my mind was fully
+occupied during the sermon. There was really
+nothing unfair or unbrotherly in my attitude.
+A philosophic affection such as mine own, which
+clashed with nothing, was (I held) permissible;
+but the volcanic passions in which Edward
+indulged about once a quarter were a serious
+interference with business. To make matters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+worse, next week there was a circus coming to
+the neighbourhood, to which we had all been
+strictly forbidden to go; and without Edward
+no visit in contempt of law and orders could be
+successfully brought off. I had sounded him
+as to the circus on our way to church, and he
+had replied briefly that the very thought of a
+clown made him sick. Morbidity could no
+further go. But the sermon came to an end
+without any line of conduct having suggested
+itself; and I walked home in some depression,
+feeling sadly that Venus was in the ascendant
+and in direful opposition, while Auriga&mdash;the
+circus star&mdash;drooped declinant, perilously near
+the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>By the irony of fate, Aunt Eliza, of all
+people, turned out to be the <i>Dea ex machin&acirc;</i>.
+The thing fell out in this wise. It was that
+lady's obnoxious practice to issue forth, of a
+Sunday afternoon, on a visit of state to such
+farmers and cottagers as dwelt at hand; on
+which occasion she was wont to hale a reluctant
+boy along with her, from the mixed motives of
+propriety and his soul's health. Much cudgelling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
+of brains, I suppose, had on that particular
+day made me torpid and unwary. Anyhow,
+when a victim came to be sought for, I fell an
+easy prey, while the others fled scatheless and
+whooping. Our first visit was to the Larkins.
+Here ceremonial might be viewed in its finest
+flower, and we conducted ourselves, like Queen
+Elizabeth when she trod the measure, 'high and
+disposedly.' In the low oak-panelled parlour
+cake and currant wine were set forth, and, after
+courtesies and compliments exchanged, Aunt
+Eliza, greatly condescending, talked the fashions
+with Mrs. Larkin; while the farmer and I,
+perspiring with the unusual effort, exchanged
+remarks on the mutability of the weather and
+the steady fall in the price of corn. (Who
+would have thought, to hear us, that only two
+short days ago we had confronted each other on
+either side of a hedge? I triumphant, provocative,
+derisive? He flushed, wroth, cracking his
+whip, and volleying forth profanity? So powerful
+is all-subduing ceremony!) Sabina the
+while, demurely seated with a <i>Pilgrim's
+Progress</i> on her knee, and apparently absorbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+in a brightly-coloured presentment of 'Apollyon
+Straddling Right across the Way,' eyed me at
+times with shy interest; but repelled all Aunt
+Eliza's advances with a frigid politeness for
+which I could not sufficiently admire her.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 319px;">
+<img src="images/ill08.jpg" width="319" height="500" alt="&#39;Who would have thought .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. that only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either side of a hedge&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Who would have thought .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. that only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either side of a hedge&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'It's surprising to me,' I heard my aunt
+remark presently, 'how my eldest nephew,
+Edward, despises little girls. I heard him tell
+Charlotte the other day that he wished he could
+exchange her for a pair of Japanese guinea-pigs.
+It made the poor child cry. Boys are so
+heartless!' (I saw Sabina stiffen as she sat,
+and her tip-tilted nose twitched scornfully.)
+'Now this boy here&mdash;&mdash;' (my soul descended
+into my very boots. Could the woman have
+intercepted any of my amorous glances at the
+baker's wife?) 'Now this boy,' my aunt went
+on, 'is more human altogether. Only yesterday
+he took his sister to the baker's shop, and spent
+his only penny buying her sweets. I thought
+it showed such a nice disposition. I wish
+Edward were more like him!'</p>
+
+<p>I breathed again. It was unnecessary to
+explain my real motives for that visit to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+baker's. Sabina's face softened, and her contemptuous
+nose descended from its altitude of
+scorn; she gave me one shy glance of kindness,
+and then concentrated her attention upon Mercy
+knocking at the Wicket Gate. I felt awfully
+mean as regarded Edward; but what could I
+do? I was in Gaza, gagged and bound; the
+Philistines hemmed me in.</p>
+
+<p>The same evening the storm burst, the bolt
+fell, and&mdash;to continue the metaphor&mdash;the
+atmosphere grew serene and clear once more.
+The evening service was shorter than usual, the
+vicar, as he ascended the pulpit steps, having
+dropped two pages out of his sermon-case&mdash;unperceived
+by any but ourselves, either at the
+moment or subsequently when the hiatus was
+reached; so, as we joyfully shuffled out I
+whispered Edward that by racing home at top
+speed we should make time to assume our
+bows and arrows (laid aside for the day) and
+play at Indians and buffaloes with Aunt Eliza's
+fowls&mdash;already strolling roostwards, regardless
+of their doom&mdash;before that sedately stepping
+lady could return. Edward hung at the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+wavering; the suggestion had unhallowed
+charms. At that moment Sabina issued primly
+forth, and, seeing Edward, put out her tongue
+at him in the most exasperating manner conceivable;
+then passed on her way, her shoulders
+rigid, her dainty head held high. A man can
+stand very much in the cause of love: poverty,
+aunts, rivals, barriers of every sort, all these
+only serve to fan the flame. But personal
+ridicule is a shaft that reaches the very vitals.
+Edward led the race home at a speed which
+one of Ballantyne's heroes might have equalled
+but never surpassed; and that evening the
+Indians dispersed Aunt Eliza's fowls over
+several square miles of country, so that the
+tale of them remaineth incomplete unto this
+day. Edward himself, cheering wildly, pursued
+the big Cochin-China cock till the bird sank
+gasping under the drawing-room window,
+whereat its mistress stood petrified; and after
+supper, in the shrubbery, smoked a half-consumed
+cigar he had picked up in the road, and
+declared to an awe-stricken audience his final,
+his immitigable resolve to go into the army.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The crisis was past, and Edward was saved!&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+And yet .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. <i>sunt lachrym&aelig; rerum</i> .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. to
+me watching the cigar-stump alternately pale
+and glow against the dark background of laurel,
+a vision of a tip-tilted nose, of a small head poised
+scornfully, seemed to hover on the gathering
+gloom&mdash;seemed to grow and fade and grow
+again, like the grin of the Cheshire cat&mdash;pathetically,
+reproachfully even; and the charms of
+the baker's wife slipped from my memory like
+snow-wreaths in thaw. After all, Sabina was
+nowise to blame: why should the child be
+punished? To-morrow I would give them the
+slip, and stroll round by her garden promiscuous-like,
+at a time when the farmer was safe in
+the rickyard. If nothing came of it, there was
+no harm done; and if on the contrary.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec004.png" width="400" height="140" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE BURGLARS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>IT was much too fine a night to think of going
+to bed at once, and so, although the witching
+hour of nine <span class='smcap'>p.m.</span> had struck, Edward and I
+were still leaning out of the open window in
+our nightshirts, watching the play of the cedar-branch
+shadows on the moonlit lawn, and
+planning schemes of fresh devilry for the sunshiny
+morrow. From below, strains of the
+jocund piano declared that the Olympians were
+enjoying themselves in their listless impotent
+way; for the new curate had been bidden to
+dinner that night, and was at the moment
+unclerically proclaiming to all the world that
+he feared no foe. His discordant vociferations
+doubtless started a train of thought in Edward's
+mind, for he presently remarked, <i>à propos</i> of
+nothing whatever that had been said before, 'I
+believe the new curate's rather gone on Aunt
+Maria.'</div>
+
+<p>I scouted the notion; 'Why, she's quite old,'
+I said. (She must have seen some five-and-twenty
+summers.)</p>
+
+<p>'Of course she is,' replied Edward scornfully.
+'It's not her, it's her money he's after, you
+bet!'</p>
+
+<p>'Didn't know she had any money,' I observed
+timidly.</p>
+
+<p>'Sure to have,' said my brother with confidence.
+'Heaps and heaps.'</p>
+
+<p>Silence ensued, both our minds being busy
+with the new situation thus presented: mine,
+in wonderment at this flaw that so often
+declared itself in enviable natures of fullest
+endowment,&mdash;in a grown-up man and a good
+cricketer, for instance, even as this curate;
+Edward's (apparently) in the consideration of
+how such a state of things, supposing it existed,
+could be best turned to his own advantage.</p>
+
+<p>'Bobby Ferris told me,' began Edward in
+due course, 'that there was a fellow spooning
+his sister once&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'What's spooning?' I asked meekly.</p>
+
+<p>'O <i>I</i> dunno,' said Edward indifferently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It's&mdash;it's&mdash;it's just a thing they do, you
+know. And he used to carry notes and messages
+and things between 'em, and he got a
+shilling almost every time.'</p>
+
+<p>'What, from each of 'em?' I innocently
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Edward looked at me with scornful pity.
+'Girls never have any money,' he briefly explained.
+'But she did his exercises, and got
+him out of rows, and told stories for him when
+he needed it&mdash;and much better ones than he
+could have made up for himself. Girls are
+useful in some ways. So he was living in
+clover, when unfortunately they went and
+quarrelled about something.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't see what that's got to do with it,' I
+said.</p>
+
+<p>'Nor don't I,' rejoined Edward. 'But anyhow
+the notes and things stopped, and so did
+the shillings. Bobby was fairly cornered, for
+he had bought two ferrets on tick, and promised
+to pay a shilling a week, thinking the shillings
+were going on for ever, the silly young ass.
+So when the week was up, and he was being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+dunned for the shilling, he went off to the
+fellow and said: "Your broken-hearted Bella
+implores you to meet her at sundown. By the
+hollow oak as of old, be it only for a moment.
+Do not fail!" He got all that out of some
+rotten book, of course. The fellow looked
+puzzled and said:</p>
+
+<p>'"What hollow oak? I don't know any
+hollow oak."</p>
+
+<p>'"Perhaps it was the Royal Oak?" said
+Bobby promptly, 'cos he saw he had made a
+slip, through trusting too much to the rotten
+book; but this didn't seem to make the fellow
+any happier.'</p>
+
+<p>'Should think not,' I said, 'the Royal Oak's
+an awful low sort of pub.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know,' said Edward. 'Well, at last the
+fellow said, "I think I know what she means:
+the hollow tree in your father's paddock. It
+happens to be an elm, but she wouldn't know
+the difference. All right: say I'll be there."
+Bobby hung about a bit, for he hadn't got his
+money. "She was crying awfully," he said.
+Then he got his shilling.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And wasn't the fellow riled,' I inquired,
+'when he got to the place and found nothing?'</p>
+
+<p>'He found Bobby,' said Edward indignantly.
+'Young Ferris was a gentleman, every inch of
+him. He brought the fellow another message
+from Bella: "I dare not leave the house. My
+cruel parents immure me closely. If you only
+knew what I suffer. Your broken-hearted
+Bella." Out of the same rotten book. This
+made the fellow a little suspicious, 'cos it was
+the old Ferrises who had been keen about the
+thing all through. The fellow, you see, had
+tin.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what's that got to&mdash;&mdash;' I began again.</p>
+
+<p>'O <i>I</i> dunno,' said Edward impatiently. 'I'm
+telling you just what Bobby told me. He got
+suspicious, anyhow, but he couldn't exactly call
+Bella's brother a liar, so Bobby escaped for the
+time. But when he was in a hole next week,
+over a stiff French exercise, and tried the same
+sort of game on his sister, she was too sharp for
+him, and he got caught out. Somehow women
+seem more mistrustful than men. They're so
+beastly <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'supicious'">suspicious</ins> by nature, you know.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>I</i> know,' said I. 'But did the two&mdash;the
+fellow and the sister&mdash;make it up afterwards?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't remember about that,' replied Edward
+indifferently; 'but Bobby got packed off to
+school a whole year earlier than his people meant
+to send him. Which was just what he wanted.
+So you see it all came right in the end!'</p>
+
+<p>I was trying to puzzle out the moral of this
+story&mdash;it was evidently meant to contain one
+somewhere&mdash;when a flood of golden lamplight
+mingled with the moon-rays on the lawn, and
+Aunt Maria and the new curate strolled out on
+the grass below us, and took the direction of a
+garden-seat which was backed by a dense laurel
+shrubbery reaching round in a half-circle to the
+house. Edward meditated moodily. 'If we
+only knew what they were talking about,' said
+he, 'you'd soon see whether I was right or not.
+Look here! Let's send the kid down by the
+porch to reconnoitre!'</p>
+
+<p>'Harold's asleep,' I said; 'it seems rather a
+shame&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'O rot!' said my brother; 'he's the youngest,
+and he's got to do as he's told!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So the luckless Harold was hauled out of
+bed and given his sailing-orders. He was
+naturally rather vexed at being stood up
+suddenly on the cold floor, and the job had no
+particular interest for him; but he was both
+staunch and well disciplined. The means of
+exit were simple enough. A porch of iron
+trellis came up to within easy reach of the
+window, and was habitually used by all three
+of us, when modestly anxious to avoid public
+notice. Harold climbed deftly down the porch
+like a white rat, and his night-gown glimmered
+a moment on the gravel walk ere he was lost to
+sight in the darkness of the shrubbery. A brief
+interval of silence ensued; broken suddenly by
+a sound of scuffle, and then a shrill long-drawn
+squeal, as of metallic surfaces in friction. Our
+scout had fallen into the hands of the enemy!</p>
+
+<p>Indolence alone had made us devolve the
+task of investigation on our younger brother.
+Now that danger had declared itself, there was
+no hesitation. In a second we were down the
+side of the porch, and crawling Cherokee-wise
+through the laurels to the back of the garden-seat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+Piteous was the sight that greeted us.
+Aunt Maria was on the seat, in a white evening
+frock, looking&mdash;for an aunt&mdash;really quite nice.
+On the lawn stood an incensed curate, grasping
+our small brother by a large ear, which&mdash;judging
+from the row he was making&mdash;seemed on
+the point of parting company with the head it
+completed and adorned. The gruesome noise he
+was emitting did not really affect us otherwise
+than &aelig;sthetically. To one who has tried both,
+the wail of genuine physical anguish is easily
+distinguishable from the pumped-up <i>ad misericordiam</i>
+blubber. Harold's could clearly be
+recognised as belonging to the latter class.
+'Now you young&mdash;' (whelp, <i>I</i> think it was, but
+Edward stoutly maintains it was devil), said the
+curate sternly; 'tell us what you mean by it!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well leggo of my ear then!' shrilled Harold,
+'and I'll tell you the solemn truth!'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well,' agreed the curate, releasing him,
+'now go ahead, and don't lie more than you can
+help.'</p>
+
+<p>We abode the promised disclosure without
+the least misgiving; but even we had hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+given Harold due credit for his fertility of
+resource and powers of imagination.</p>
+
+<p>'I had just finished saying my prayers,' began
+that young gentleman slowly,' when I happened
+to look out of the window, and on the lawn I
+saw a sight which froze the marrow in my veins!
+A burglar was approaching the house with snake-like
+tread! He had a scowl and a dark lantern,
+and he was armed to the teeth!'</p>
+
+<p>We listened with interest. The style, though
+unlike Harold's native notes, seemed strangely
+familiar.</p>
+
+<p>'Go on,' said the curate grimly.</p>
+
+<p>'Pausing in his stealthly career,' continued
+Harold, 'he gave a low whistle. Instantly the
+signal was responded to, and from the adjacent
+shadows two more figures glided forth. The
+miscreants were both armed to the teeth.'</p>
+
+<p>'Excellent,' said the curate; 'proceed.'</p>
+
+<p>'The robber chief,' pursued Harold, warming
+to his work, 'joined his nefarious comrades, and
+conversed with them in silent tones. His expression
+was truly ferocious, and I ought to
+have said that he was armed to the t&mdash;&mdash;'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'There, never mind his teeth,' interrupted the
+curate rudely; 'there's too much jaw about
+you altogether. Hurry up and have done.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was in a <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'frighful'">frightful</ins> funk,' continued the
+narrator, warily guarding his ear with his hand,
+'but just then the drawing-room window opened,
+and you and Aunt Maria came out&mdash;I mean
+emerged. The burglars vanished silently into
+the laurels, with horrid implications!'</p>
+
+<p>The curate looked slightly puzzled. The
+tale was well sustained, and certainly circumstantial.
+After all, the boy might really have
+seen something. How was the poor man to
+know&mdash;though the chaste and lofty diction
+might have supplied a hint&mdash;that the whole
+yarn was a free adaptation from the last Penny
+Dreadful lent us by the knife-and-boot boy?</p>
+
+<p>'Why did you not alarm the house?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>''Cos I was afraid,' said Harold sweetly,
+'that p'raps they mightn't believe me!'</p>
+
+<p>'But how did you get down here, you
+naughty little boy?' put in Aunt Maria.</p>
+
+<p>Harold was hard pressed&mdash;by his own flesh
+and blood, too!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At that moment Edward touched me on the
+shoulder and glided off through the laurels.
+When some ten yards away he gave a low
+whistle. I replied with another. The effect
+was magical. Aunt Maria started up with a
+shriek. Harold gave one startled glance around,
+and then fled like a hare, made straight for the
+back-door, burst in upon the servants at supper,
+and buried himself in the broad bosom of the
+cook, his special ally. The curate faced the
+laurels&mdash;hesitatingly. But Aunt Maria flung
+herself on him. 'O Mr. Hodgitts!' I heard
+her cry, 'you are brave! for my sake do not be
+rash!' He was not rash. When I peeped out
+a second later, the coast was entirely clear.</p>
+
+<p>By this time there were sounds of a household
+timidly emerging; and Edward remarked
+to me that perhaps we had better be off. Retreat
+was an easy matter. A stunted laurel
+gave a leg-up on to the garden wall, which led
+in its turn to the roof of an out-house, up which,
+at a dubious angle, we could crawl to the window
+of the box-room. This overland route had
+been revealed to us one day by the domestic cat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
+when hard pressed in the course of an otter-hunt,
+in which the cat&mdash;somewhat unwillingly&mdash;was
+filling the title <i>r&ocirc;le</i>; and it had proved distinctly
+useful on occasions like the present. We were
+snug in bed&mdash;minus some cuticle from knees
+and elbows&mdash;and Harold, sleepily chewing
+something sticky, had been carried up in the
+arms of the friendly cook, ere the clamour of
+the burglar-hunters had died away.</p>
+
+<p>The curate's undaunted demeanour, as reported
+by Aunt Maria, was generally supposed
+to have terrified the burglars into flight, and
+much kudos accrued to him thereby. Some
+days later, however, when he had dropped in to
+afternoon tea, and was making a mild curatorial
+joke about the moral courage required for taking
+the last piece of bread-and-butter, I felt
+constrained to remark dreamily, and as it were
+to the universe at large: 'Mr. Hodgitts! you
+are brave! for my sake, do not be rash!'</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for me, the vicar also was a caller
+on that day; and it was always a comparatively
+easy matter to dodge my long-coated friend in
+the open.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A HARVESTING</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THE year was in its yellowing time, and the
+face of Nature a study in old gold. 'A
+field <i>or, semée</i> with garbs of the same:' it may
+be false Heraldry&mdash;Nature's generally is&mdash;but
+it correctly blazons the display that Edward and
+I considered from the rickyard gate. Harold
+was not on in this scene, being stretched
+upon the couch of pain: the special disorder
+stomachic, as usual. The evening before,
+Edward, in a fit of unwonted amiability, had
+deigned to carve me out a turnip lantern, an
+art-and-craft he was peculiarly deft in; and
+Harold, as the interior of the turnip flew out in
+scented fragments under the hollowing knife,
+had eaten largely thereof: regarding all such
+jetsam as his special perquisite. Now he was
+dreeing his weird, with such assistance as the
+chemist could afford. But Edward and I,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>knowing that this particular field was to be
+carried to-day, were revelling in the privilege
+of riding in the empty waggons from the rickyard
+back to the sheaves, whence we returned
+toilfully on foot, to career it again over the
+billowy acres in these great galleys of a stubble
+sea. It was the nearest approach to sailing
+that we inland urchins might compass: and
+hence it ensued, that such stirring scenes as
+Sir Richard Grenville on the <i>Revenge</i>, the
+smoke-wreathed Battle of the Nile, and the
+Death of Nelson, had all been enacted in turn
+on these dusty quarter-decks, as they swayed
+and bumped afield.</div>
+
+<p>Another waggon had shot its load, and was
+jolting out through the rickyard gate, as we
+swung ourselves in, shouting, over its tail
+Edward was the first up, and, as I gained
+my feet, he clutched me in a death-grapple.
+I was a privateersman, he proclaimed, and he
+the captain of the British frigate <i>Terpsichore</i>,
+of&mdash;I forget the precise number of guns.
+Edward always collared the best parts to himself;
+but I was holding my own gallantly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
+when I suddenly discovered that the floor
+we battled on was swarming with earwigs.
+Shrieking, I hurled free of him, and rolled
+over the tail-board on to the stubble. Edward
+executed a war-dance of triumph on the deck
+of the retreating galleon; but I cared little
+for that. I knew <i>he</i> knew that I wasn't afraid
+of him, but that I was&mdash;and terribly&mdash;of earwigs:
+'those mortal bugs o' the field.' So I
+let him disappear, shouting lustily for all hands
+to repel boarders, while I strolled inland, down
+the village.</p>
+
+<p>There was a touch of adventure in the expedition.
+This was not our own village, but a
+foreign one, distant at least a mile. One felt
+that sense of mingled distinction and insecurity
+which is familiar to the traveller: distinction,
+in that folk turned the head to note you
+curiously; insecurity, by reason of the everpresent
+possibility of missiles on the part
+of the younger inhabitants, a class eternally
+Conservative. Elated with isolation, I went
+even more nose-in-air than usual: and 'even
+so,' I mused, 'might Mungo Park have threaded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+the trackless African forest and.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.' Here
+I plumped against a soft, but resisting body.</p>
+
+<p>Recalled to my senses by the shock, I fell
+back in the attitude every boy under these
+circumstances instinctively adopts&mdash;both elbows
+well up over your ears. I found myself facing
+a tall elderly man, clean-shaven, clad in well-worn
+black&mdash;a clergyman evidently; and I
+noted at once a far-away look in his eyes, as
+if they were used to another plane of vision,
+and could not instantly focus things terrestrial,
+being suddenly recalled thereto. His figure was
+bent in apologetic protest. 'I ask a thousand
+pardons, sir,' he said; 'I am really so very
+absent-minded. I trust you will forgive me.'</p>
+
+<p>Now most boys would have suspected chaff
+under this courtly style of address. I take
+infinite credit to myself for recognising at once
+the natural attitude of a man to whom his
+fellows were gentlemen all, neither Jew nor
+Gentile, clean nor unclean. Of course, I took
+the blame on myself; adding, that I was very
+absent-minded too. Which was indeed the
+case.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I perceive,' he said pleasantly, 'that we have
+something in common. I, an old man, dream
+dreams; you, a young one, see visions. Your
+lot is the happier. And now&mdash;' his hand had
+been resting all this time on a wicket-gate&mdash;'you
+are hot, it is easily seen;&mdash;the day is
+advanced, <i>Virgo</i> is the Zodiacal sign. Perhaps
+I may offer you some poor refreshment, if your
+engagements will permit?'</p>
+
+<p>My only engagement that afternoon was an
+arithmetic lesson, and I had not intended to
+keep it in any case; so I passed in, while he
+held the gate open politely, murmuring, '<i>Venit
+Hesperus, ite capell&aelig;</i>: come, little kid!' and
+then apologising abjectly for a familiarity which
+(he said) was less his than the Roman poet's.
+A straight flagged walk led up to the cool-looking
+old house, and my host, lingering in
+his progress at this rose-tree and that, forgot
+all about me at least twice, waking up and
+apologising humbly after each lapse. During
+these intervals I put two and two together,
+and identified him as the Rector: a bachelor,
+eccentric, learned exceedingly, round whom the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+crust of legend was already beginning to form;
+to myself an object of special awe, in that
+he was alleged to have written a real book.
+'Heaps o' books,' Martha, my informant, said;
+but I knew the exact rate of discount applicable
+to Martha's statements.</p>
+
+<p>We passed eventually through a dark hall
+into a room which struck me at once as the
+ideal I had dreamed but failed to find. None
+of your feminine fripperies here! None of
+your chair-backs and tidies! This man, it was
+seen, groaned under no aunts. Stout volumes
+in calf and vellum lined three sides; books
+sprawled or hunched themselves on chairs and
+tables; books diffused the pleasant odour of
+printers' ink and bindings; topping all, a faint
+aroma of tobacco cheered and heartened exceedingly,
+as under foreign skies the flap and
+rustle over the wayfarer's head of the Union
+Jack&mdash;the old flag of emancipation! And in
+one corner, book-piled like the rest of the furniture,
+stood a piano.</p>
+
+<p>This I hailed with a squeal of delight.
+'Want to strum?' inquired my friend, as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+it was the most natural wish in the world&mdash;his
+eyes were already straying towards another
+corner, where bits of writing-table peeped out
+from under a sort of Alpine system of book and
+foolscap.</p>
+
+<p>'O but may I?' I asked in doubt. 'At
+home I'm not allowed to&mdash;only beastly exercises!'</p>
+
+
+<p>'Well, you can strum here, at all events,'
+he replied; and murmuring absently, '<i>Age, dic
+Latinum, barbite, carmen</i>,' he made his way,
+mechanically guided as it seemed, to the irresistible
+writing-table. In ten seconds he was
+out of sight and call. A great book open on
+his knee, another propped up in front, a score
+or so disposed within easy reach, he read and
+jotted with an absorption almost passionate. I
+might have been in B&oelig;otia, for any consciousness
+he had of me. So with a light heart I
+turned to and strummed.</p>
+
+<p>Those who painfully and with bleeding feet
+have scaled the crags of mastery over musical
+instruments have yet their loss in this: that
+the wild joy of strumming has become a vanished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
+sense. Their happiness comes from the
+concord and the relative value of the notes
+they handle: the pure, absolute quality and
+nature of each note in itself are only appreciated
+by the strummer. For some notes have
+all the sea in them, and some cathedral bells;
+others a woodland joyance and a smell of
+greenery; in some fauns dance to the merry
+reed, and even the grave centaurs peep out
+from their caves. Some bring moonlight, and
+some the deep crimson of a rose's heart; some
+are blue, some red, while others will tell of an
+army with silken standards and march-music.
+And throughout all the sequence of suggestion,
+up above the little white men leap and peep,
+and strive against the imprisoning wires; and
+all the big rosewood box hums as it were full
+of hiving bees.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 312px;">
+<img src="images/ill09.jpg" width="312" height="500" alt="&#39;A great book open on his knee .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. a score or so disposed within easy reach&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;A great book open on his knee .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. a score or so disposed within easy reach&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Spent with the rapture, I paused a moment
+and caught my friend's eye over the edge of
+a folio. 'But as for these Germans,' he began
+abruptly, as if we had been in the middle of a
+discussion, 'the scholarship is there, I grant
+you; but the spark, the fine perception, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+happy intuition, where is it? They get it all
+from us!'</p>
+
+<p>'They get nothing whatever from <i>us</i>,' I said
+decidedly: the word German only suggesting
+Bands, to which Aunt Eliza was bitterly hostile.</p>
+
+<p>'You think not?' he rejoined doubtfully, getting
+up and walking about the room. 'Well,
+I applaud such fairness and temperance in so
+young a critic. They are qualities&mdash;in youth&mdash;as
+rare as they are pleasing. But just look
+at Schrumpffius, for instance&mdash;how he struggles
+and wrestles with a simple <ins title="Transliteration: gar">&#947;&#945;&#961;</ins> in this very
+passage here!'</p>
+
+<p>I peeped fearfully through the open door,
+half dreading to see some sinuous and snark-like
+conflict in progress on the mat; but all
+was still. I saw no trouble at all in the passage,
+and I said so.</p>
+
+<p>'Precisely,' he cried, delighted. 'To you,
+who possess the natural scholar's faculty in so
+happy a degree, there is no difficulty at all.
+But to this Schrumpffius&mdash;&mdash;' But here, luckily
+for me, in came the housekeeper, a clean-looking
+woman of staid aspect.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Your tea is in the garden,' she said severely,
+as if she were correcting a faulty emendation.
+'I've put some cakes and things for the little
+gentleman; and you'd better drink it before it
+gets cold.'</p>
+
+<p>He waved her off and continued his stride,
+brandishing an aorist over my devoted head.
+The housekeeper waited unmoved till there
+fell a moment's break in his descant; and
+then, 'You'd better drink it before it gets
+cold,' she observed again, impassively. The
+wretched man cast a deprecating look at me.
+'Perhaps a little tea would be rather nice,' he
+observed feebly; and to my great relief he led
+the way into the garden. I looked about for the
+little gentleman, but, failing to discover him, I
+concluded he was absent-minded too, and
+attacked the 'cakes and things' with no
+misgivings.</p>
+
+<p>After a most successful and most learned
+tea a something happened which, small as I
+was, never quite shook itself out of my memory.
+To us at parley in an arbour over the high
+road, there entered, slouching into view, a dingy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+tramp, satellited by a frowsy woman and a
+pariah dog; and, catching sight of us, he set
+up his professional whine; and I looked at
+my friend with the heartiest compassion, for
+I knew well from Martha&mdash;it was common talk&mdash;that
+at this time of day he was certainly and
+surely penniless. Morn by morn he started
+forth with pockets lined; and each returning
+evening found him with never a sou. All this
+he proceeded to explain at length to the tramp,
+courteously and even shamefacedly, as one who
+was in the wrong; and at last the gentleman
+of the road, realising the hopelessness of his
+case, set to and cursed him with gusto, vocabulary,
+and abandonment. He reviled his eyes,
+his features, his limbs, his profession, his relatives
+and surroundings; and then slouched off,
+still oozing malice and filth. We watched the
+party to a turn in the road, where the woman,
+plainly weary, came to a stop. Her lord, after
+some conventional expletives demanded of him
+by his position, relieved her of her bundle, and
+caused her to hang on his arm with a certain
+rough kindness of tone, and in action even a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+dim approach to tenderness; and the dingy
+dog crept up for one lick at her hand.</p>
+
+<p>'See,' said my friend, bearing somewhat on
+my shoulder, 'how this strange thing, this love
+of ours, lives and shines out in the unlikeliest
+of places! You have been in the fields in early
+morning? Barren acres, all! But only stoop&mdash;catch
+the light thwartwise&mdash;and all is a silver
+network of gossamer! So the fairy filaments of
+this strange thing underrun and link together
+the whole world. Yet it is not the old imperious
+god of the fatal bow&mdash;<ins title="Transliteration: er&ocirc;s anikate machan">&#949;&#961;&#969;&#962; &#945;&#957;&#7985;&#954;&#945;&#964;&#949; &#956;&#7937;&#967;&#945;&#957;</ins>&mdash;not
+that&mdash;nor even the placid respectable <ins title="Transliteration: storg&ecirc;">&#963;&#964;&#959;&#961;&#947;&#7969;</ins>&mdash;but
+something still unnamed, perhaps more
+mysterious, more divine! Only one must stoop
+to see it, old fellow, one must stoop!'</p>
+
+<p>The dew was falling, the dusk closing, as I
+trotted briskly homewards down the road.
+Lonely spaces everywhere, above and around.
+Only Hesperus hung in the sky, solitary, pure,
+ineffably far-drawn and remote; yet infinitely
+heartening, somehow, in his valorous isolation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SNOWBOUND</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>TWELFTH-NIGHT had come and gone,
+and life next morning seemed a trifle flat
+and purposeless. But yester-eve, and the mummers
+were here! They had come striding into
+the old kitchen, powdering the red brick floor
+with snow from their barbaric bedizenments; and
+stamping, and crossing, and declaiming, till all
+was whirl and riot and shout. Harold was
+frankly afraid: unabashed, he buried himself
+in the cook's ample bosom. Edward feigned a
+manly superiority to illusion, and greeted these
+awful apparitions familiarly, as Dick and Harry
+and Joe. As for me, I was too big to run, too
+rapt to resist the magic and surprise. Whence
+came these outlanders, breaking in on us with
+song and ordered masque and a terrible clashing
+of wooden swords? And after these, what strange
+visitants might we not look for any quiet
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>night, when the chestnuts popped in the ashes,
+and the old ghost stories drew the awe-stricken
+circle close? Old Merlin, perhaps, 'all furred
+in black sheep-skins, and a russet gown, with
+a bow and arrows, and bearing wild geese in
+his hand!' Or stately Ogier the Dane, recalled
+from Faëry, asking his way to the land that
+once had need of him! Or even, on some
+white night, the Snow-Queen herself, with a
+chime of sleigh-bells and the patter of reindeer's
+feet, halting of a sudden at the door flung
+wide, while aloft the Northern Lights went
+shaking attendant spears among the quiet
+stars!</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 335px;">
+<img src="images/ill10.jpg" width="335" height="500" alt="&#39;But yester-eve and the mummers were here!&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;But yester-eve and the mummers were here!&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>This morning, house-bound by the relentless
+indefatigable snow, I was feeling the reaction.
+Edward, on the contrary, being violently stage-struck
+on this his first introduction to the real
+Drama, was striding up and down the floor,
+proclaiming 'Here be I, King Gearge the
+Third,' in a strong Berkshire accent. Harold,
+accustomed, as the youngest, to lonely antics
+and to sports that asked no sympathy, was
+absorbed in 'clubmen': a performance consisting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+in a measured progress round the room arm-in-arm
+with an imaginary companion of reverend
+years, with occasional halts at imaginary clubs,
+where&mdash;imaginary steps being leisurely ascended&mdash;imaginary
+papers were glanced at,
+imaginary scandal was discussed with elderly
+shakings of the head, and&mdash;regrettable to say&mdash;imaginary
+glasses were lifted lipwards. Heaven
+only knows how the germ of this dreary pastime
+first found way into his small-boyish being. It
+was his own invention, and he was proportionately
+proud of it. Meanwhile Charlotte and I,
+crouched in the window-seat, watched, spell-stricken,
+the whirl and eddy and drive of the
+innumerable snow-flakes, wrapping our cheery
+little world in an uncanny uniform, ghastly in
+line and hue.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte was sadly out of spirits. Having
+'countered' Miss Smedley at breakfast, during
+some argument or other, by an apt quotation
+from her favourite classic (the <i>Fairy Book</i>), she
+had been gently but firmly informed that no
+such things as fairies ever really existed. 'Do
+you mean to say it's all lies?' asked Charlotte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
+bluntly. Miss Smedley deprecated the use of
+any such unladylike words in any connexion
+at all. 'These stories had their origin, my
+dear,' she explained, 'in a mistaken anthropomorphism
+in the interpretation of nature. But
+though we are now too well informed to fall
+into similar errors, there are still many beautiful
+lessons to be learned from these myths&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'But how can you learn anything,' persisted
+Charlotte, 'from what doesn't exist?' And she
+left the table defiant, howbeit depressed.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you mind <i>her</i>,' I said consolingly;
+'how can she know anything about it? Why,
+she can't even throw a stone properly!'</p>
+
+<p>'Edward says they're all rot, too,' replied
+Charlotte doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Edward says everything's rot,' I explained,
+'now he thinks he's going into the Army. If
+a thing's in a book it <i>must</i> be true, so that
+settles it!'</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte looked almost reassured. The room
+was quieter now, for Edward had got the dragon
+down and was boring holes in him with a purring
+sound; Harold was ascending the steps of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+Athen&aelig;um with a jaunty air&mdash;suggestive rather
+of the Junior Carlton. Outside, the tall elm-tops
+were hardly to be seen through the feathery
+storm. 'The sky's a-falling,' quoted Charlotte
+softly; 'I must go and tell the king.' The quotation
+suggested a fairy story, and I offered to
+read to her, reaching out for the book. But the
+Wee Folk were under a cloud; sceptical hints
+had embittered the chalice. So I was fain to
+fetch <i>Arthur</i>&mdash;second favourite with Charlotte
+for his dames riding errant, and an easy first
+with us boys for his spear-splintering crash of
+tourney and hurtle against hopeless odds. Here
+again, however, I proved unfortunate; what ill-luck
+made the book open at the sorrowful history
+of Balin and Balan? 'And he vanished anon,'
+I read: 'and so he heard an horne blow, as it
+had been the death of a beast. "That blast,"
+said Balin, "is blowen for me, for I am the
+prize, and yet am I not dead."' Charlotte
+began to cry: she knew the rest too well. I
+shut the book in despair. Harold emerged from
+behind the arm-chair. He was sucking his
+thumb (a thing which members of the Reform<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+are seldom seen to do), and he stared wide-eyed
+at his tear-stained sister. Edward put off his
+histrionics, and rushed up to her as the consoler&mdash;a
+new part for him.</p>
+
+<p>'I know a jolly story,' he began. 'Aunt
+Eliza told it me. It was when she was somewhere
+over in that beastly abroad'&mdash;(he had
+once spent a black month of misery at Dinan)&mdash;'and
+there was a fellow there who had got
+two storks. And one stork died&mdash;it was the
+she-stork.'&mdash;('What did it die of?' put in
+Harold.)&mdash;'And the other stork was quite
+sorry, and moped, and went on, and got very
+miserable. So they looked about and found a
+duck, and introduced it to the stork. The
+duck was a drake, but the stork didn't mind,
+and they loved each other and were as jolly as
+could be. By and by another duck came along&mdash;a
+real she-duck this time&mdash;and when the
+drake saw her he fell in love, and left the stork,
+and went and proposed to the duck: for she
+was very beautiful. But the poor stork who
+was left, he said nothing at all to anybody, but
+just pined and pined and pined away, till one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+morning he was found quite dead! But the
+ducks lived happily ever afterwards!'</p>
+
+<p>This was Edward's idea of a jolly story!
+Down again went the corners of poor Charlotte's
+mouth. Really Edward's stupid inability to
+see the real point in anything was <i>too</i> annoying!
+It was always so. Years before, it being
+necessary to prepare his youthful mind for a
+domestic event that might lead to awkward
+questionings at a time when there was little
+leisure to invent appropriate answers, it was
+delicately inquired of him whether he would
+like to have a little brother, or perhaps a little
+sister? He considered the matter carefully in
+all its bearings, and finally declared for a Newfoundland
+pup. Any boy more 'gleg at the
+uptak' would have met his parents half-way,
+and eased their burden. As it was, the matter
+had to be approached all over again from a
+fresh standpoint. And now, while Charlotte
+turned away sniffingly, with a hiccup that told
+of an overwrought soul, Edward, unconscious
+(like Sir Isaac's Diamond) of the mischief he had
+done, wheeled round on Harold with a shout.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I want a live dragon,' he announced: 'You've
+got to be my dragon!'</p>
+
+<p>'Leave me go, will you?' squealed Harold,
+struggling stoutly. 'I'm playin' at something
+else. How can I be a dragon and belong to all
+the clubs?'</p>
+
+<p>'But wouldn't you like to be a nice scaly
+dragon, all green,' said Edward, trying persuasion,
+'with a curly tail and red eyes, and
+breathing real smoke and fire?'</p>
+
+<p>Harold wavered an instant: Pall-Mall was
+still strong in him. The next he was grovelling
+on the floor. No saurian ever swung a tail so
+scaly and so curly as his. Clubland was a
+thousand years away. With horrific pants he
+emitted smokiest smoke and fiercest fire.</p>
+
+<p>'Now I want a Princess,' cried Edward,
+clutching Charlotte ecstatically; 'and <i>you</i> can
+be the Doctor, and heal me from the dragon's
+deadly wound.'</p>
+
+<p>Of all professions I held the sacred art of
+healing in worst horror and contempt. Cataclysmal
+memories of purge and draught crowded
+thick on me, and with Charlotte&mdash;who courted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+no barren honours&mdash;I made a break for the
+door. Edward did likewise, and the hostile
+forces clashed together on the mat, and for a
+brief space things were mixed and chaotic and
+Arthurian. The silvery sound of the luncheon-bell
+restored an instant peace, even in the teeth
+of clenched antagonisms like ours. The Holy
+Grail itself, 'sliding athwart a sunbeam,' never
+so effectually stilled a riot of warring passions
+into sweet and quiet accord.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec005.png" width="400" height="144" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
+<h2>WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>EDWARD was standing ginger-beer like a
+gentleman, happening, as the one that had
+last passed under the dentist's hands, to be the
+capitalist of the flying hour. As in all well-regulated
+families, the usual tariff obtained in
+ours: half-a-crown a tooth; one shilling only
+if the molar were a loose one. This one,
+unfortunately&mdash;in spite of Edward's interested
+affectation of agony&mdash;had been shakiness undisguised;
+but the event was good enough to run
+to ginger-beer. As financier, however, Edward
+had claimed exemption from any servile duties
+of procurement, and had swaggered about the
+garden while I fetched from the village post-office,
+and Harold stole a tumbler from the
+pantry. Our preparations complete, we were
+sprawling on the lawn; the staidest and most
+self-respecting of the rabbits had been let loose
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>to grace the feast, and was lopping demurely
+about the grass, selecting the juiciest plantains;
+while Selina, as the eldest lady present, was
+toying, in her affected feminine way, with the
+first full tumbler, daintily fishing for bits of
+broken cork.</div>
+
+<p>'Hurry up, can't you?' growled our host;
+'what are you girls always so beastly particular
+for?'</p>
+
+<p>'Martha says,' explained Harold (thirsty too,
+but still just), 'that if you swallow a bit of cork,
+it swells, and it swells, and it swells inside you,
+till you&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'O bosh!' said Edward, draining the glass
+with a fine pretence of indifference to consequences,
+but all the same (as I noticed) dodging
+the floating cork-fragments with skill and
+judgment.</p>
+
+<p>'O, it's all very well to say bosh,' replied
+Harold nettled: 'but every one knows it's true
+but you. Why, when Uncle Thomas was here
+last, and they got up a bottle of wine for him,
+he took just one tiny sip out of his glass, and
+then he said, "Poo, my goodness, that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
+corked!" And he wouldn't touch it. And
+they had to get a fresh bottle up. The funny
+part was, though, I looked in his glass afterwards,
+when it was brought out into the passage,
+and there wasn't any cork in it at all! So I
+drank it all off, and it was very good!'</p>
+
+<p>'You'd better be careful, young man!' said
+his elder brother, regarding him severely:
+'D'you remember that night when the Mummers
+were here, and they had mulled port, and
+you went round and emptied all the glasses after
+they had gone away?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ow! I did feel funny that night,' chuckled
+Harold. 'Thought the house was comin' down,
+it jumped about so: and Martha had to carry
+me up to bed, 'cos the stairs was goin' all
+waggity!'</p>
+
+<p>We gazed searchingly at our graceless junior;
+but it was clear that he viewed the matter in
+the light of a phenomenon rather than of a
+delinquency.</p>
+
+<p>A third bottle was by this time circling; and
+Selina, who had evidently waited for it to reach
+her, took a most unfairly long pull, and then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+jumping up and shaking out her frock, announced
+that she was going for a walk. Then she fled
+like a hare; for it was the custom of our Family
+to meet with physical coercion any independence
+of action in individuals.</p>
+
+<p>'She's off with those Vicarage girls again,'
+said Edward, regarding Selina's long black legs
+twinkling down the path. 'She goes out with
+them every day now; and as soon as ever they
+start, all their heads go together and they
+chatter, chatter, chatter the whole bless&egrave;d time!
+I can't make out what they find to talk about.
+They never stop; it's gabble, gabble, gabble
+right along, like a nest of young rooks!'</p>
+
+<p>'P'raps they talk about birds'-eggs,' I suggested
+sleepily (the sun was hot, the turf soft,
+the ginger-beer potent); 'and about ships, and
+buffaloes, and desert islands; and why rabbits
+have white tails; and whether they'd sooner
+have a schooner or a cutter; and what they'll
+be when they're men&mdash;at least, I mean there's
+lots of things to talk about, if you want to
+talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but they don't talk about those sort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+of things at all,' persisted Edward. 'How can
+they? They don't <i>know</i> anything; they can't
+<i>do</i> anything&mdash;except play the piano, and nobody
+would want to talk about <i>that</i>; and they don't
+care about anything&mdash;anything sensible, I mean.
+So what <i>do</i> they talk about?'</p>
+
+<p>'I asked Martha once,' put in Harold; 'and
+she said, "Never <i>you</i> mind; young ladies has
+lots of things to talk about that young gentlemen
+can't understand."'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't believe it,' Edward growled.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that's what she <i>said</i>, anyway,' rejoined
+Harold indifferently. The subject did not seem
+to him of first-class importance, and it was
+hindering the circulation of the ginger-beer.</p>
+
+<p>We heard the click of the front-gate. Through
+a gap in the hedge we could see the party setting
+off down the road. Selina was in the middle; a
+Vicarage girl had her by either arm; their heads
+were together, as Edward had described; and
+the clack of their tongues came down the breeze
+like the busy pipe of starlings on a bright March
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>'What <i>do</i> they talk about, Charlotte?' I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+inquired, wishing to pacify Edward. 'You go
+out with them sometimes.'</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 336px;">
+<img src="images/ill11.jpg" width="336" height="500" alt="&#39;&quot;They make me walk behind, &#39;cos they say I&#39;m too little, and mustn&#39;t hear&quot;&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;&quot;They make me walk behind, &#39;cos they say I&#39;m too little, and mustn&#39;t hear&quot;&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'I don't know,' said poor Charlotte dolefully.
+'They make me walk behind, 'cos they say I'm
+too little, and mustn't hear. And I <i>do</i> want to
+so,' she added.</p>
+
+<p>'When any lady comes to see Aunt Eliza,'
+said Harold, 'they both talk at once all the
+time. And yet each of 'em seems to hear what
+the other one's saying. I can't make out how
+they do it. Grown-up people are so clever!'</p>
+
+<p>'The Curate's the funniest man,' I remarked.
+'He's always saying things that have no sense
+in them at all, and then laughing at them as if
+they were jokes. Yesterday, when they asked
+him if he'd have some more tea, he said, "Once
+more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,"
+and then sniggered all over. I didn't see anything
+funny in that. And then somebody asked
+him about his button-hole, and he said, "'Tis
+but a little faded flower," and exploded again.
+I thought it very stupid.'</p>
+
+<p>'O <i>him</i>,' said Edward contemptuously: 'he
+can't help it, you know; it's a sort of way he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
+got. But it's these girls I can't make out. If
+they've anything really sensible to talk about,
+how is it nobody knows what it is? And if
+they haven't&mdash;and we know they <i>can't</i> have,
+naturally&mdash;why don't they shut up their jaw?
+This old rabbit here&mdash;<i>he</i> doesn't want to talk.
+He's got something better to do.' And Edward
+aimed a ginger-beer cork at the unruffled beast,
+who never budged.</p>
+
+<p>'O but rabbits <i>do</i> talk,' interposed Harold.
+'I've watched them often in their hutch. They
+put their heads together and their noses go up
+and down, just like Selina's and the Vicarage
+girls'. Only of course I can't hear what they're
+saying.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, if they do,' said Edward unwillingly,
+'I'll bet they don't talk such rot as those girls
+do!' Which was ungenerous, as well as unfair;
+for it had not yet transpired&mdash;nor has it
+to this day&mdash;<i>what</i> Selina and her friends talked
+about.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec006.png" width="400" height="138" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE ARGONAUTS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THE advent of strangers, of whatever sort,
+into our circle had always been a matter
+of grave dubiety and suspicion. Indeed, it was
+generally a signal for retreat into caves and
+fastnesses of the earth, into unthreaded copses
+or remote outlying cowsheds, whence we were
+only to be extricated by wily nursemaids, rendered
+familiar by experience with our secret runs
+and refuges. It was not surprising, therefore,
+that the heroes of classic legend, when first we
+made their acquaintance, failed to win our entire
+sympathy at once. 'Confidence,' says somebody,
+'is a plant of slow growth'; and these
+stately dark-haired demi-gods, with names hard
+to master and strange accoutrements, had to
+win a citadel already strongly garrisoned with
+a more familiar soldiery. Their chill foreign
+goddesses had no such direct appeal for us as
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>the mocking malicious fairies and witches of
+the North. We missed the pleasant alliance
+of the animal&mdash;the fox who spread the bushiest
+of tails to convey us to the enchanted castle, the
+frog in the well, the raven who croaked advice
+from the tree; and&mdash;to Harold especially&mdash;it
+seemed entirely wrong that the hero should ever
+be other than the youngest brother of three.
+This belief, indeed, in the special fortune that
+ever awaited the youngest brother, as such,&mdash;the
+'Borough-English' of <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Faery'">Faëry</ins>,&mdash;had been
+of baleful effect on Harold, producing a certain
+self-conceit and perkiness that called for physical
+correction. But even in our admonishment we
+were on his side; and as we distrustfully eyed
+these new arrivals, old Saturn himself seemed
+something of a <i>parvenu</i>.</div>
+
+<p>Even strangers, however, if they be good fellows
+at heart, may develop into sworn comrades;
+and these gay swordsmen, after all, were of the
+right stuff. Perseus, with his cap of darkness
+and his wonderful sandals, was not long in
+winging his way to our hearts. Apollo knocked
+at Admetus' gate in something of the right fairy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
+fashion. Psyche brought with her an orthodox
+palace of magic, as well as helpful birds and
+friendly ants. Ulysses, with his captivating
+shifts and strategies, broke down the final
+barrier, and henceforth the band was adopted
+and admitted into our freemasonry.</p>
+
+<p>I had been engaged in chasing Farmer Larkin's
+calves&mdash;his special pride&mdash;round the field,
+just to show the man we hadn't forgotten him,
+and was returning through the kitchen-garden
+with a conscience at peace with all men, when I
+happened upon Edward, grubbing for worms in
+the dung-heap. Edward put his worms into his
+hat, and we strolled along together, discussing
+high matters of state. As we reached the tool-shed,
+strange noises arrested our steps; looking
+in, we perceived Harold, alone, rapt, absorbed,
+immersed in the special game of the moment.
+He was squatting in an old pig-trough that had
+been brought in to be tinkered; and as he rhapsodised,
+anon he waved a shovel over his head,
+anon dug it into the ground with the action
+of those who would urge Canadian canoes.
+Edward strode in upon him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/ill12.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="&#39;&quot;I&#39;m Jason .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and this is the Argo .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and we&#39;re just going through the Hellespont&quot;&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;&quot;I&#39;m Jason .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and this is the Argo .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and we&#39;re just going through the Hellespont&quot;&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'What rot are you playing at now?' he
+demanded sternly.</p>
+
+<p>Harold flushed up, but stuck to his pig-trough
+like a man. 'I'm Jason,' he replied defiantly;
+'and this is the Argo. The other fellows are
+here too, only you can't see them; and we're
+just going through the Hellespont, so don't you
+come bothering.' And once more he plied the
+wine-dark sea.</p>
+
+<p>Edward kicked the pig-trough contemptuously.
+'Pretty sort of Argo you've got!' said he.</p>
+
+<p>Harold began to get annoyed. 'I can't help
+it,' he retorted. 'It's the best sort of Argo I
+can manage, and it's all right if you only pretend
+enough. But <i>you</i> never could pretend one
+bit.'</p>
+
+<p>Edward reflected. 'Look here,' he said
+presently. 'Why shouldn't we get hold of
+Farmer Larkin's boat, and go right away up
+the river in a real Argo, and look for Medea,
+and the Golden Fleece, and everything? And
+I'll tell you what, I don't mind your being
+Jason, as you thought of it first.'</p>
+
+<p>Harold tumbled out of the trough in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
+excess of his emotion. 'But we aren't allowed
+to go on the water by ourselves,' he cried.</p>
+
+<p>'No,' said Edward, with fine scorn: 'we
+aren't allowed; and Jason wasn't allowed
+either, I daresay. But he <i>went</i>!'</p>
+
+<p>Harold's protest had been merely conventional:
+he only wanted to be convinced by
+sound argument. The next question was, How
+about the girls? Selina was distinctly handy
+in a boat: the difficulty about her was, that
+if she disapproved of the expedition&mdash;and,
+morally considered, it was not exactly a Pilgrim's
+Progress&mdash;she might go and tell; she
+having just reached that disagreeable age when
+one begins to develop a conscience. Charlotte,
+for her part, had a habit of day-dreams, and was
+as likely as not to fall overboard in one of her
+rapt musings. To be sure, she would dissolve
+in tears when she found herself left out; but
+even that was better than a watery tomb. In
+fine, the public voice&mdash;and rightly, perhaps&mdash;was
+against the admission of the skirted animal:
+despite the precedent of Atalanta, who was one
+of the original crew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And now,' said Edward, 'who's to ask
+Farmer Larkin? <i>I</i> can't; last time I saw him
+he said when he caught me again he'd smack
+my head. <i>You'll</i> have to.'</p>
+
+<p>I hesitated, for good reasons. 'You know
+those precious calves of his?' I began.</p>
+
+<p>Edward understood at once. 'All right,' he
+said; 'then we won't ask him at all. It doesn't
+much matter. He'd only be annoyed, and that
+would be a pity. Now let's set off.'</p>
+
+<p>We made our way down to the stream, and
+captured the farmer's boat without let or hindrance,
+the enemy being engaged in the hay-fields.
+This 'river,' so called, could never be
+discovered by us in any atlas; indeed our
+Argo could hardly turn in it without risk of
+shipwreck. But to us 'twas Orinoco, and the
+cities of the world dotted its shores. We put
+the Argo's head upstream, since that led away
+from the Larkin province; Harold was faithfully
+permitted to be Jason, and we shared the
+rest of the heroes among us. Then, quitting
+Thessaly, we threaded the Hellespont with
+shouts, breathlessly dodged the Clashing Rocks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+and coasted under the lee of the Siren-haunted
+isles. Lemnos was fringed with meadow-sweet,
+dog-roses dotted the Mysian shore, and the
+cheery call of the haymaking folk sounded
+along the coast of Thrace.</p>
+
+<p>After some hour or two's seafaring, the prow
+of the Argo embedded itself in the mud of a
+landing-place, plashy with the tread of cows
+and giving on to a lane that led towards the
+smoke of human habitations. Edward jumped
+ashore, alert for exploration, and strode off
+without waiting to see if we followed; but I
+lingered behind, having caught sight of a moss-grown
+water-gate hard by, leading into a garden
+that, from the brooding quiet lapping it round,
+appeared to portend magical possibilities.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed the very air within seemed stiller, as
+we circumspectly passed through the gate; and
+Harold hung back shamefaced, as if we were
+crossing the threshold of some private chamber,
+and ghosts of old days were hustling past us.
+Flowers there were, everywhere; but they
+drooped and sprawled in an overgrowth hinting
+at indifference; the scent of heliotrope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+possessed the place as if actually hung in solid
+festoons from tall untrimmed hedge to hedge.
+No basket-chairs, shawls, or novels dotted the
+lawn with colour, and on the garden-front of
+the house behind, the blinds were mostly drawn.
+A grey old sun-dial dominated the central
+sward, and we moved towards it instinctively,
+as the most human thing in sight. An antick
+motto ran round it, and with eyes and fingers
+we struggled at the decipherment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">time</span>: <span class="smcap">tryeth</span>: <span class="smcap">trothe</span>: spelt out Harold
+at last. 'I wonder what that means?'</p>
+
+<p>I could not enlighten him, nor meet his further
+questions as to the inner mechanism of the thing,
+and where you wound it up. I had seen these
+instruments before, of course; but had never
+fully understood their manner of working.</p>
+
+<p>We were still puzzling our heads over the
+contrivance, when I became aware that Medea
+herself was moving down the path from the
+house. Dark-haired, supple, of a figure lightly
+poised and swayed, but pale and listless&mdash;I
+knew her at once, and having come out to
+find her, naturally felt no surprise at all. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+Harold, who was trying to climb on to the top
+of the sun-dial, having a cat-like fondness for
+the summit of things, started and fell prone,
+barking his chin and filling the pleasance with
+lamentation.</p>
+
+<p>Medea skimmed the ground swallow-like, and
+in a moment was on her knees comforting him,
+wiping the dirt out of his chin with her own
+dainty handkerchief, and vocal with soft murmur
+of consolation.</p>
+
+<p>'You needn't take on so about him,' I
+observed politely. 'He'll cry for just one
+minute, and then he'll be all right.'</p>
+
+<p>My estimate was justified. At the end of his
+regulation time Harold stopped crying suddenly,
+like a clock that had struck its hour; and with
+a serene and cheerful countenance wriggled out
+of Medea's embrace, and ran for a stone to
+throw at an intrusive blackbird.</p>
+
+<p>'O you boys!' cried Medea, throwing wide
+her arms with abandonment. 'Where have
+you dropped from? How dirty you are! I've
+been shut up here for a thousand years, and all
+that time I've never seen any one under a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+hundred and fifty! Let's play at something, at
+once!'</p>
+
+<p>'Rounders is a good game,' I suggested.
+'Girls can play at rounders. And we could
+serve up to the sun-dial here. But you want a
+bat and a ball, and some more people.'</p>
+
+<p>She struck her hands together tragically.
+'I haven't a bat,' she cried, 'or a ball, or
+more people, or anything sensible whatever.
+Never mind; let's play at hide-and-seek in
+the kitchen-garden. And we'll race there,
+up to that walnut-tree; I haven't run for a
+century!'</p>
+
+<p>She was so easy a victor, nevertheless, that I
+began to doubt, as I panted behind, whether
+she had not exaggerated her age by a year or
+two. She flung herself into hide-and-seek with
+all the gusto and abandonment of the true
+artist; and as she flitted away and reappeared,
+flushed and laughing divinely, the pale witch-maiden
+seemed to fall away from her, and she
+moved rather as that other girl I had read about,
+snatched from fields of daffodil to reign in
+shadow below, yet permitted now and again<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+to revisit earth and light and the frank, caressing
+air.</p>
+
+<p>Tired at last, we strolled back to the old
+sun-dial, and Harold, who never relinquished
+a problem unsolved, began afresh, rubbing his
+finger along the faint incisions. '<i>Time tryeth
+trothe</i>. Please, I want to know what that
+means?'</p>
+
+<p>Medea's face drooped low over the sun-dial,
+till it was almost hidden in her fingers. 'That's
+what I'm here for,' she said presently in quite a
+changed, low voice. 'They shut me up here&mdash;they
+think I'll forget&mdash;but I never will&mdash;never,
+never! And he, too&mdash;but I don't know&mdash;it is
+so long&mdash;I don't know!'</p>
+
+<p>Her face was quite hidden now. There was
+silence again in the old garden. I felt clumsily
+helpless and awkward. Beyond a vague idea
+of kicking Harold, nothing remedial seemed to
+suggest itself.</p>
+
+<p>None of us had noticed the approach of
+another she-creature&mdash;one of the angular and
+rigid class&mdash;how different from our dear comrade!
+The years Medea had claimed might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+well have belonged to her; she wore mittens,
+too&mdash;a trick I detested in woman. 'Lucy!'
+she said sharply, in a tone with <i>aunt</i> writ large
+over it; and Medea started up guiltily.</p>
+
+<p>'You've been crying,' said the newcomer,
+grimly regarding her through spectacles. 'And
+pray who are these exceedingly dirty little
+boys?'</p>
+
+<p>'Friends of mine, aunt,' said Medea promptly,
+with forced cheerfulness. I&mdash;I've known them
+a long time. I asked them to come.'</p>
+
+<p>The aunt sniffed suspiciously. 'You must
+come indoors, dear,' she said, 'and lie down.
+The sun will give you a headache. And you
+little boys had better run away home to your
+tea. Remember, you should not come to pay
+visits without your nursemaid.'</p>
+
+<p>Harold had been tugging nervously at my
+jacket for some time, and I only waited till
+Medea turned and kissed a white hand to us
+as she was led away. Then I ran. We gained
+the boat in safety; and 'What an old dragon!'
+said Harold.</p>
+
+<p>'Wasn't she a beast!' I replied. 'Fancy the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+sun giving any one a headache! But Medea
+was a real brick. Couldn't we carry her off?'</p>
+
+<p>'We could if Edward was here,' said Harold
+confidently.</p>
+
+<p>The question was, What had become of that
+defaulting hero? We were not left long in
+doubt. First, there came down the lane the
+shrill and wrathful clamour of a female tongue;
+then Edward, running his best; and then an
+excited woman hard on his heel. Edward
+tumbled into the bottom of the boat, gasping
+'Shove her off!' And shove her off we did,
+mightily, while the dame abused us from the
+bank in the self-same accents in which Alfred
+hurled defiance at the marauding Dane.</p>
+
+<p>'That was just like a bit out of <i>Westward
+Ho</i>!' I remarked approvingly, as we sculled
+down the stream. 'But what had you been
+doing to her?'</p>
+
+<p>'Hadn't been doing anything,' panted Edward,
+still breathless. 'I went up into the village and
+explored, and it was a very nice one, and the
+people were very polite. And there was a
+blacksmith's forge there, and they were shoeing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+horses, and the hoofs fizzled and smoked, and
+smelt so jolly! I stayed there quite a long time.
+Then I got thirsty, so I asked that old woman
+for some water, and while she was getting it her
+cat came out of the cottage, and looked at me
+in a nasty sort of way, and said something I
+didn't like. So I went up to it just to&mdash;to
+teach it manners, and somehow or other, next
+minute it was up an apple-tree, spitting, and I
+was running down the lane with that old thing
+after me.'</p>
+
+<p>Edward was so full of his personal injuries
+that there was no interesting him in Medea at
+all. Moreover, the evening was closing in, and
+it was evident that this cutting-out expedition
+must be kept for another day. As we neared
+home, it gradually occurred to us that perhaps
+the greatest danger was yet to come, for the
+farmer must have missed his boat ere now, and
+would probably be lying in wait for us near the
+landing-place. There was no other spot admitting
+of debarcation on the home side; if we got
+out on the other, and made for the bridge, we
+should certainly be seen and cut off. Then it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+was that I blessed my stars that our elder
+brother was with us that day. He might be
+little good at pretending, but in grappling with
+the stern facts of life he had no equal. Enjoining
+silence, he waited till we were but a little
+way from the fated landing-place, and then
+brought us in to the opposite bank. We
+scrambled out noiselessly and&mdash;the gathering
+darkness favouring us&mdash;crouched behind a willow,
+while Edward pushed off the empty boat
+with his foot. The old Argo, borne down by the
+gentle current, slid and grazed along the rushy
+bank; and when she came opposite the suspected
+ambush, a stream of imprecation told
+us that our precaution had not been wasted.
+We wondered, as we listened, where Farmer
+Larkin, who was bucolically bred and reared,
+had acquired such range and wealth of vocabulary.
+Fully realising at last that his boat was
+derelict, abandoned, at the mercy of wind and
+wave&mdash;as well as out of his reach&mdash;he strode
+away to the bridge, about a quarter of a mile
+further down; and as soon as we heard his
+boots clumping on the planks we nipped out,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+recovered the craft, pulled across, and made
+the faithful vessel fast to her proper moorings.
+Edward was anxious to wait and exchange
+courtesies and compliments with the disappointed
+farmer, when he should confront us
+on the opposite bank; but wiser counsels
+prevailed. It was possible that the piracy was
+not yet laid at our particular door: Ulysses,
+I reminded him, had reason to regret a similar
+act of bravado, and&mdash;were he here&mdash;would
+certainly advise a timely retreat. Edward held
+but a low opinion of me as a counsellor; but he
+had a very solid respect for Ulysses.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec007.png" width="400" height="136" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE ROMAN ROAD</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>ALL the roads of our neighbourhood were
+cheerful and friendly, having each of
+them pleasant qualities of their own; but this
+one seemed different from the others in its masterful
+suggestion of a serious purpose, speeding
+you along with a strange uplifting of the heart.
+The others tempted chiefly with their treasures
+of hedge and ditch; the rapt surprise of the
+first lords-and-ladies, the rustle of a field-mouse,
+the splash of a frog; while cool noses of brother-beasts
+were pushed at you through gate or gap.
+A loiterer you had need to be, did you choose
+one of them; so many were the tiny hands
+thrust out to detain you, from this side and
+that. But this one was of a sterner sort, and
+even in its shedding off of bank and hedgerow
+as it marched straight and full for the open
+downs, it seemed to declare its contempt for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>adventitious trappings to catch the shallow-pated.
+When the sense of injustice or disappointment
+was heavy on me, and things were
+very black within, as on this particular day, the
+road of character was my choice for that solitary
+ramble when I turned my back for an afternoon
+on a world that had unaccountably declared
+itself against me.</div>
+
+<p>'The Knights' Road' we children had named
+it, from a sort of feeling that, if from any quarter
+at all, it would be down this track we might some
+day see Lancelot and his peers come pacing on
+their great war-horses; supposing that any of
+the stout band still survived, in nooks and unexplored
+places. Grown-up people sometimes
+spoke of it as the 'Pilgrims' Way'; but I
+didn't know much about pilgrims&mdash;except
+Walter in the Horselberg story. Him I sometimes
+saw, breaking with haggard eyes out of
+yonder copse, and calling to the pilgrims as they
+hurried along on their desperate march to the
+Holy City, where peace and pardon were
+awaiting them. 'All roads lead to Rome,' I
+had once heard somebody say; and I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+taken the remark very seriously, of course, and
+puzzled over it many days. There must have
+been some mistake, I concluded at last; but of
+one road at least I intuitively felt it to be true.
+And my belief was clinched by something that
+fell from Miss Smedley during a history-lesson,
+about a strange road that ran right down the
+middle of England till it reached the coast, and
+then began again in France, just opposite, and
+so on undeviating, through city and vineyard,
+right from the misty Highlands to the Eternal
+City. Uncorroborated, any statement of Miss
+Smedley's usually fell on incredulous ears; but
+here, with the road itself in evidence, she seemed,
+once in a way, to have strayed into truth.</p>
+
+<p>Rome! It was fascinating to think that it
+lay at the other end of this white ribbon that
+rolled itself off from my feet over the distant
+downs. I was not quite so uninstructed as to
+imagine I could reach it that afternoon; but
+some day, I thought, if things went on being as
+unpleasant as they were now&mdash;some day, when
+Aunt Eliza had gone on a visit,&mdash;some day,
+we would see.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I tried to imagine what it would be like when
+I got there. The Coliseum I knew, of course,
+from a woodcut in the history-book: so to
+begin with I plumped that down in the middle.
+The rest had to be patched up from the little
+grey market-town where twice a year we went
+to have our hair cut; hence, in the result,
+Vespasian's amphitheatre was approached by
+muddy little streets, wherein the Red Lion and
+the Blue Boar, with Somebody's Entire along
+their front, and 'Commercial Room' on their
+windows; the doctor's house, of substantial
+red-brick; and the fa&ccedil;ade of the New Wesleyan
+chapel, which we thought very fine, were the
+chief architectural ornaments: while the Roman
+populace pottered about in smocks and corduroys,
+twisting the tails of Roman calves and
+inviting each other to beer in musical Wessex.
+From Rome I drifted on to other cities, faintly
+heard of&mdash;Damascus, Brighton (Aunt Eliza's
+ideal), Athens, and Glasgow, whose glories the
+gardener sang; but there was a certain sameness
+in my conception of all of them: that
+Wesleyan chapel would keep cropping up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+everywhere. It was easier to go a-building
+among those dream-cities where no limitations
+were imposed, and one was sole architect, with
+a free hand. Down a delectable street of cloud-built
+palaces I was mentally pacing, when I
+happened upon the Artist.</p>
+
+<p>He was seated at work by the roadside, at a
+point whence the cool large spaces of the downs,
+juniper-studded, swept grandly westwards. His
+attributes proclaimed him of the artist tribe:
+besides, he wore knickerbockers like myself,&mdash;a
+garb confined, I was aware, to boys and artists.
+I knew I was not to bother him with questions,
+nor look over his shoulder and breathe in his
+ear&mdash;they didn't like it, this <i>genus irritabile</i>.
+But there was nothing about staring in my
+code of instructions, the point having somehow
+been overlooked: so, squatting down on the
+grass, I devoted myself to the passionate absorbing
+of every detail. At the end of five
+minutes there was not a button on him that I
+could not have passed an examination in; and
+the wearer himself of that homespun suit was
+probably less familiar with its pattern and texture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+than I was. Once he looked up, nodded,
+half held out his tobacco pouch, mechanically as
+it were, then, returning it to his pocket, resumed
+his work, and I my mental photography.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/ill13.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="&#39;&quot;You haven&#39;t been to Rome, have you?&quot;&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;&quot;You haven&#39;t been to Rome, have you?&quot;&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>After another five minutes or so had passed,
+he remarked, without looking my way: 'Fine
+afternoon we're having: going far to-day?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I'm not going any farther than this,'
+I replied; 'I <i>was</i> thinking of going on to Rome:
+but I've put it off.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pleasant place, Rome,' he murmured: 'you'll
+like it.' It was some minutes later that he
+added: 'But I wouldn't go just now, if I were
+you: too jolly hot.'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>You</i> haven't been to Rome, have you?' I
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>'Rather,' he replied briefly: 'I live there.'</p>
+
+<p>This was too much, and my jaw dropped as
+I struggled to grasp the fact that I was sitting
+there talking to a fellow who lived in Rome.
+Speech was out of the question: besides I had
+other things to do. Ten solid minutes had I
+already spent in an examination of him as a
+mere stranger and artist; and now the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
+thing had to be done over again, from the
+changed point of view. So I began afresh, at
+the crown of his soft hat, and worked down
+to his solid British shoes, this time investing
+everything with the new Roman halo; and at
+last I managed to get out: 'But you don't
+really live there, do you?' never doubting the
+fact, but wanting to hear it repeated.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' he said, good-naturedly overlooking
+the slight rudeness of my query, 'I live there
+as much as I live anywhere. About half the
+year sometimes. I've got a sort of a shanty
+there. You must come and see it some day.'</p>
+
+<p>'But do you live anywhere else as well?' I
+went on, feeling the forbidden tide of questions
+surging up within me.</p>
+
+<p>'O yes, all over the place,' was his vague
+reply. 'And I've got a diggings somewhere
+off Piccadilly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where's that?' I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>'Where's what?' said he. 'O, Piccadilly!
+It's in London.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you a large garden?' I asked; 'and
+how many pigs have you got?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I've no garden at all,' he replied sadly, and
+they don't allow me to keep pigs, though I'd
+like to, awfully. It's very hard.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what do you do all day, then,' I cried,
+'and where do you go and play, without any
+garden, or pigs, or things?'</p>
+
+<p>'When I want to play,' he said gravely, 'I
+have to go and play in the street; but it's poor
+fun, I grant you. There's a goat, though, not
+far off, and sometimes I talk to him when I'm
+feeling lonely; but he's very proud.'</p>
+
+<p>'Goats <i>are</i> proud,' I admitted. 'There's one
+lives near here, and if you say anything to him
+at all, he hits you in the wind with his head.
+You know what it feels like when a fellow hits
+you in the wind?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do, well,' he replied, in a tone of proper
+melancholy, and painted on.</p>
+
+<p>'And have you been to any other places,'
+I began again presently, 'besides Rome and
+Piccy-what's-his-name?'</p>
+
+<p>'Heaps,' he said. 'I'm a sort of Ulysses&mdash;seen
+men and cities, you know. In fact, about the
+only place I never got to was the Fortunate Island.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I began to like this man. He answered your
+questions briefly and to the point, and never
+tried to be funny. I felt I could be confidential
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>'Wouldn't you like,' I inquired, 'to find a
+city without any people in it at all?'</p>
+
+<p>He looked puzzled. 'I'm afraid I don't
+quite understand,' said he.</p>
+
+<p>'I mean,' I went on eagerly, 'a city where
+you walk in at the gates, and the shops are all
+full of beautiful things, and the houses furnished
+as grand as can be, and there isn't anybody
+there whatever! And you go into the shops,
+and take anything you want&mdash;chocolates and
+magic-lanterns and injirubber balls&mdash;and there's
+nothing to pay; and you choose your own house
+and live there and do just as you like, and never
+go to bed unless you want to!'</p>
+
+<p>The artist laid down his brush. 'That <i>would</i>
+be a nice city,' he said. 'Better than Rome.
+You can't do that sort of thing in Rome&mdash;or in
+Piccadilly either. But I fear it's one of the
+places I've never been to.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you'd ask your friends,' I went on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+warming to my subject; 'only those you really
+like, of course; and they'd each have a house
+to themselves&mdash;there'd be lots of houses,&mdash;and
+there wouldn't be any relations at all, unless
+they promised they'd be pleasant; and if they
+weren't they'd have to go.'</p>
+
+<p>'So you wouldn't have any relations?' said
+the artist. 'Well, perhaps you're right. We
+have tastes in common, I see.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'd have Harold,' I said reflectively, 'and
+Charlotte. They'd like it awfully. The others
+are getting too old. O, and Martha&mdash;I'd have
+Martha to cook and wash up and do things.
+You'd like Martha. She's ever so much nicer
+than Aunt Eliza. She's my idea of a real
+lady.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I'm sure I should like her,' he replied
+heartily, 'and when I come to&mdash;what do you
+call this city of yours? Nephelo&mdash;something,
+did you say?'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;I don't know, 'I replied timidly. 'I'm
+afraid it hasn't got a name&mdash;yet.'</p>
+
+<p>The artist gazed out over the downs. '"The
+poet says, dear city of Cecrops,"' he said softly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+to himself, '"and wilt not thou say, dear city
+of Zeus?" That's from Marcus Aurelius,' he
+went on, turning again to his work. 'You don't
+know him, I suppose; you will some day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who's he?' I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>'O, just another fellow who lived in Rome,'
+he replied, dabbing away.</p>
+
+<p>'O dear!' I cried disconsolately. 'What a
+lot of people seem to live at Rome, and I've
+never even been there! But I think I'd like
+<i>my</i> city best.'</p>
+
+<p>'And so would I,' he replied with unction.
+'But Marcus Aurelius wouldn't, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then we won't invite him,' I said; 'will
+we?'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>I</i> won't if you won't,' said he. And that
+point being settled, we were silent for a while.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know,' he said presently, 'I've met
+one or two fellows from time to time, who have
+been to a city like yours&mdash;perhaps it was the
+same one. They won't talk much about it&mdash;only
+broken hints, now and then; but they've
+been there sure enough. They don't seem to
+care about anything in particular&mdash;and everything's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+the same to them, rough or smooth;
+and sooner or later they slip off and disappear;
+and you never see them again. Gone back, I
+suppose.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course,' said I. 'Don't see what they
+ever came away for; <i>I</i> wouldn't. To be told
+you've broken things when you haven't, and
+stopped having tea with the servants in the
+kitchen, and not allowed to have a dog to sleep
+with you. But <i>I've</i> known people, too, who've
+gone there.'</p>
+
+<p>The artist stared, but without incivility.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, there's Lancelot,' I went on. 'The
+book says he died, but it never seemed to read
+right, somehow. He just went away, like
+Arthur. And Crusoe, when he got tired of
+wearing clothes and being respectable. And
+all the nice men in the stories who don't marry
+the Princess, 'cos only one man ever gets married
+in a book, you know. They'll be there!'</p>
+
+<p>'And the men who never come off,' he said,
+'who try like the rest, but get knocked out, or
+somehow miss&mdash;or break down or get bowled
+over in the m&ecirc;l&eacute;e&mdash;and get no Princess, nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
+even a second-class kingdom&mdash;some of them'll
+be there, I hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, if you like,' I replied, not quite understanding
+him; 'if they're friends of yours, we'll
+ask 'em, of course.'</p>
+
+<p>'What a time we shall have!' said the artist
+reflectively; 'and how shocked old Marcus
+Aurelius will be!'</p>
+
+<p>The shadows had lengthened uncannily, a
+tide of golden haze was flooding the grey-green
+surface of the downs, and the artist began to put
+his traps together, preparatory to a move. I felt
+very low: we would have to part, it seemed,
+just as we were getting on so well together.
+Then he stood up, and he was very straight and
+tall, and the sunset was in his hair and beard
+as he stood there, high over me. He took my
+hand like an equal. 'I've enjoyed our conversation
+very much,' he said. 'That was an
+interesting subject you started, and we haven't
+half exhausted it. We shall meet again, I
+hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course we shall,' I replied, surprised that
+there should be any doubt about it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'In Rome perhaps?' said he.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, in Rome,' I answered; 'or Piccy-the-other-place,
+or somewhere.'</p>
+
+<p>'Or else,' said he, 'in that other city&mdash;when
+we've found the way there. And I'll look out
+for you, and you'll sing out as soon as you see
+me. And we'll go down the street arm-in-arm,
+and into all the shops, and then I'll choose my
+house, and you'll choose your house, and we'll
+live there like princes and good fellows.'</p>
+
+<p>'O, but you'll stay in my house, won't
+you?' I cried; 'I wouldn't ask everybody;
+but I'll ask <i>you</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>He affected to consider a moment; then
+'Right!' he said: 'I believe you mean it, and
+I <i>will</i> come and stay with you. I won't go to
+anybody else, if they ask me ever so much.
+And I'll stay quite a long time, too, and I
+won't be any trouble.'</p>
+
+<p>Upon this compact we parted, and I went
+down-heartedly from the man who understood
+me, back to the house where I never could do
+anything right. How was it that everything
+seemed natural and sensible to him, which these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
+uncles, vicars, and other grown-up men took
+for the merest tomfoolery? Well, he would
+explain this, and many another thing, when
+we met again. The Knights' Road! How it
+always brought consolation! Was he possibly
+one of those vanished knights I had been looking
+for so long? Perhaps he would be in
+armour next time&mdash;why not? He would look
+well in armour, I thought. And I would take
+care to get there first, and see the sunlight flash
+and play on his helmet and shield, as he rode up
+the High Street of the Golden City.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, there only remained the finding it.
+An easy matter.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec008.png" width="400" height="135" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE SECRET DRAWER</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>IT must surely have served as a boudoir for
+the ladies of old time, this little used, rarely
+entered chamber where the neglected old bureau
+stood. There was something very feminine in
+the faint hues of its faded brocades, in the rose
+and blue of such bits of china as yet remained,
+and in the delicate old-world fragrance of pot-pourri
+from the great bowl,&mdash;blue and white,
+with funny holes in its cover,&mdash;that stood on
+the bureau's flat top. Modern aunts disdained
+this out-of-the-way, backwater, upstairs room,
+preferring to do their accounts and grapple
+with their correspondence in some central position
+more in the whirl of things, whence one
+eye could be kept on the carriage-drive, while
+the other was alert for malingering servants and
+marauding children. Those aunts of a former
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>generation&mdash;I sometimes felt&mdash;would have
+suited our habits better. But even by us
+children, to whom few places were private or
+reserved, the room was visited but rarely. To
+be sure, there was nothing particular in it that
+we coveted or required. Only a few spindle-legged,
+gilt-backed chairs,&mdash;an old harp on
+which, so the legend ran, Aunt Eliza herself
+used once to play, in years remote, unchronicled;
+a corner-cupboard with a few pieces of china;
+and the old bureau. But one other thing the
+room possessed, peculiar to itself; a certain
+sense of privacy&mdash;a power of making the
+intruder feel that he <i>was</i> intruding&mdash;perhaps
+even a faculty of hinting that some one might
+have been sitting on those chairs, writing at the
+bureau, or fingering the china, just a second
+before one entered. No such violent word as
+'haunted' could possibly apply to this pleasant
+old-fashioned chamber, which indeed we all
+rather liked; but there was no doubt it was reserved
+and stand-offish, keeping itself to itself.</div>
+
+<p>Uncle Thomas was the first to draw my
+attention to the possibilities of the old bureau.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+He was pottering about the house one afternoon,
+having ordered me to keep at his heels for
+company&mdash;he was a man who hated to be left
+one minute alone,&mdash;when his eye fell on it.
+'H'm! Sheraton!' he remarked. (He had a
+smattering of most things, this uncle, especially
+the vocabularies.) Then he let down the flap,
+and examined the empty pigeon-holes and
+dusty panelling. 'Fine bit of inlay,' he went
+on: 'good work, all of it. I know the sort.
+There's a secret drawer in there somewhere.'
+Then as I breathlessly drew near, he suddenly
+exclaimed: 'By Jove, I do want to smoke!'
+And, wheeling round, he abruptly fled for the
+garden, leaving me with the cup dashed from my
+lips. What a strange thing, I mused, was this
+smoking, that takes a man suddenly, be he in
+the court, the camp, or the grove, grips him like
+an Afreet, and whirls him off to do its imperious
+behests! Would it be even so with myself, I
+wondered, in those unknown grown-up years
+to come?</p>
+
+<p>But I had no time to waste in vain speculations.
+My whole being was still vibrating to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
+those magic syllables 'secret drawer'; and that
+particular chord had been touched that never
+fails to thrill responsive to such words as <i>cave</i>,
+<i>trap-door</i>, <i>sliding-panel</i>, <i>bullion</i>, <i>ingots</i>, or
+<i>Spanish dollars</i>. For, besides its own special
+bliss, who ever heard of a secret drawer with
+nothing in it? And O I did want money so
+badly! I mentally ran over the list of demands
+which were pressing me the most imperiously.</p>
+
+<p>First, there was the pipe I wanted to give
+George Jannaway. George, who was Martha's
+young man, was a shepherd, and a great ally of
+mine; and the last fair he was at, when he
+bought his sweetheart fairings, as a right-minded
+shepherd should, he had purchased a lovely
+snake expressly for me; one of the wooden
+sort, with joints, waggling deliciously in the
+hand; with yellow spots on a green ground,
+sticky and strong-smelling, as a fresh-painted
+snake ought to be; and with a red-flannel
+tongue pasted cunningly into its jaws. I loved
+it much, and took it to bed with me every night,
+till what time its spinal cord was loosed and it
+fell apart, and went the way of all mortal joys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+<i>I</i> thought it very nice of George to think of me
+at the fair, and that's why I wanted to give him
+a pipe. When the young year was chill and
+lambing-time was on, George inhabited a little
+wooden house on wheels, far out on the wintry
+downs, and saw no faces but such as were
+sheepish and woolly and mute; and when he
+and Martha were married, she was going to
+carry his dinner out to him every day, two
+miles; and after it, perhaps he would smoke my
+pipe. It seemed an idyllic sort of existence, for
+both the parties concerned; but a pipe of quality,
+a pipe fitted to be part of a life such as this,
+could not be procured (so Martha informed me)
+for a smaller sum than eighteenpence. And
+meantime&mdash;&mdash;!</p>
+
+<p>Then there was the fourpence I owed Edward;
+not that he was bothering me for it, but
+I knew he was in need of it himself, to pay back
+Selina, who wanted it to make up a sum of two
+shillings, to buy Harold an ironclad for his
+approaching birthday,&mdash;H.M.S. <i>Majestic</i>, now
+lying uselessly careened in the toyshop window,
+just when her country had such sore need of her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
+And then there was that boy in the village
+who had caught a young squirrel, and I had
+never yet possessed one, and he wanted a shilling
+for it, but I knew that for ninepence in cash&mdash;but
+what was the good of these sorry threadbare
+reflections? I had wants enough to exhaust
+any possible find of bullion, even if it amounted
+to half a sovereign. My only hope now lay in
+the magic drawer, and here I was, standing and
+letting the precious minutes slip by! Whether
+'findings' of this sort could, morally speaking,
+be considered 'keepings,' was a point that did
+not occur to me.</p>
+
+<p>The room was very still as I approached the
+bureau; possessed, it seemed to be, by a sort
+of hush of expectation. The faint odour of
+orris-root that floated forth as I let down the
+flap, seemed to identify itself with the yellows
+and browns of the old wood, till hue and scent
+were of one quality and interchangeable. Even
+so, ere this, the pot-pourri had mixed itself with
+the tints of the old brocade, and brocade and
+pot-pourri had long been one. With expectant
+fingers I explored the empty pigeon-holes and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
+sounded the depths of the softly-sliding drawers.
+No books that I knew of gave any general recipe
+for a quest like this; but the glory, should I
+succeed unaided, would be all the greater.</p>
+
+<p>To him who is destined to arrive, the fates
+never fail to afford, on the way, their small
+encouragements. In less than two minutes, I
+had come across a rusty button-hook. This was
+truly magnificent. In the nursery there existed,
+indeed, a general button-hook, common to either
+sex; but none of us possessed a private and
+special button-hook, to lend or to refuse as
+suited the high humour of the moment. I
+pocketed the treasure carefully, and proceeded.
+At the back of another drawer, three old foreign
+stamps told me I was surely on the highroad to
+fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Following on these bracing incentives, came
+a dull blank period of unrewarded search. In
+vain I removed all the drawers and felt over
+every inch of the smooth surfaces, from front
+to back. Never a knob, spring or projection
+met the thrilling finger-tips; unyielding the old
+bureau stood, stoutly guarding its secret, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
+secret it really had. I began to grow weary
+and disheartened. This was not the first time
+that Uncle Thomas had proved shallow, uninformed,
+a guide into blind alleys where the
+echoes mocked you. Was it any good persisting
+longer? Was anything any good whatever?
+In my mind I began to review past disappointments,
+and life seemed one long record of
+failure and of non-arrival. Disillusioned and
+depressed, I left my work and went to the
+window. The light was ebbing from the room,
+and seemed outside to be collecting itself on
+the horizon for its concentrated effort of sunset.
+Far down the garden, Uncle Thomas was holding
+Edward in the air reversed, and smacking
+him. Edward, gurgling hysterically, was striking
+blind fists in the direction where he judged
+his uncle's stomach should rightly be; the contents
+of his pockets&mdash;a motley show&mdash;were
+strewing the lawn. Somehow, though I had
+been put through a similar performance myself
+an hour or two ago, it all seemed very far away
+and cut off from me.</p>
+
+<p>Westwards the clouds were massing themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
+in a low violet bank; below them, to
+north and south, as far round as eye could
+reach, a narrow streak of gold ran out and
+stretched away, straight along the horizon.
+Somewhere very far off, a horn was blowing,
+clear and thin; it sounded like the golden streak
+grown audible, while the gold seemed the visible
+sound. It pricked my ebbing courage, this
+blended strain of music and colour. I turned
+for a last effort; and Fortune thereupon, as if
+half-ashamed of the unworthy game she had been
+playing with me, relented, opening her clenched
+fist. Hardly had I put my hand once more to
+the obdurate wood, when with a sort of small
+sigh, almost a sob&mdash;as it were&mdash;of relief, the
+secret drawer sprang open.</p>
+
+<p>I drew it out and carried it to the window,
+to examine it in the failing light. Too hopeless
+had I gradually grown, in my dispiriting search,
+to expect very much; and yet at a glance I saw
+that my basket of glass lay in shivers at my
+feet. No ingots nor dollars were here, to crown
+me the little Monte Cristo of a week. Outside,
+the distant horn had ceased its gnat-song, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+gold was paling to primrose, and everything
+was lonely and still. Within, my confident
+little castles were tumbling down like so many
+card-houses, leaving me stripped of estate,
+both real and personal, and dominated by the
+depressing reaction.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/ill14.jpg" width="326" height="500" alt="&#39;I drew it out and carried it to the window, to examine it in the failing light&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;I drew it out and carried it to the window, to examine it in the failing light&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>And yet,&mdash;as I looked again at the small
+collection that lay within that drawer of disillusions,
+some warmth crept back to my heart
+as I recognised that a kindred spirit to my own
+had been at the making of it. Two tarnished
+gilt buttons&mdash;naval, apparently&mdash;a portrait of a
+monarch unknown to me, cut from some antique
+print and deftly coloured by hand in just my
+own bold style of brush-work&mdash;some foreign
+copper coins, thicker and clumsier of make than
+those I hoarded myself&mdash;and a list of birds'-eggs,
+with names of the places where they had
+been found. Also, a ferret's muzzle, and a
+twist of tarry string, still faintly aromatic! It
+was a real boy's hoard, then, that I had
+happened upon. He too had found out the
+secret drawer, this happy-starred young person;
+and here he had stowed away his treasures, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+by one, and had cherished them secretly awhile,
+and then&mdash;what? Well, one would never know
+now the reason why these priceless possessions
+still lay here unreclaimed; but across the void
+stretch of years I seemed to touch hands a
+moment with my little comrade of seasons&mdash;how
+many seasons?&mdash;long since dead.</p>
+
+<p>I restored the drawer, with its contents, to
+the trusty bureau, and heard the spring click
+with a certain satisfaction. Some other boy,
+perhaps, would some day release that spring
+again. I trusted he would be equally appreciative.
+As I opened the door to go, I could
+hear, from the nursery at the end of the passage,
+shouts and yells, telling that the hunt was up.
+Bears, apparently, or bandits, were on the
+evening bill of fare, judging by the character of
+the noises. In another minute I would be in
+the thick of it, in all the warmth and light and
+laughter. And yet&mdash;what a long way off it all
+seemed, both in space and time, to me yet
+lingering on the threshold of that old-world
+chamber!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
+<h2>'EXIT TYRANNUS'</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THE eventful day had arrived at last, the
+day which, when first named, had seemed&mdash;like
+all golden dates that promise anything
+definite&mdash;so immeasurably remote. When it
+was first announced, a fortnight before, that
+Miss Smedley was really going, the resultant
+ecstasies had occupied a full week, during which
+we blindly revelled in the contemplation and
+discussion of her past tyrannies, crimes, malignities;
+in recalling to each other this or that
+insult, dishonour, or physical assault, sullenly
+endured at a time when deliverance was not even
+a small star on the horizon: and in mapping out
+the shining days to come, with special new
+troubles of their own, no doubt&mdash;since this is
+but a work-a-day world!&mdash;but at least free from
+one familiar scourge. The time that remained
+had been taken up by the planning of practical
+expressions of the popular sentiment. Under
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>Edward's masterly direction, arrangements had
+been made for a flag to be run up over the hen-house
+at the very moment when the fly, with
+Miss Smedley's boxes on top and the grim
+oppressor herself inside, began to move off
+down the drive. Three brass cannons, set on
+the brow of the sunk-fence, were to proclaim
+our deathless sentiments in the ears of the
+retreating foe; the dogs were to wear ribbons;
+and later&mdash;but this depended on our powers of
+evasiveness and dissimulation&mdash;there might be
+a small bonfire, with a cracker or two if the
+public funds could bear the unwonted strain.</div>
+
+<p>I was awakened by Harold digging me in
+the ribs, and 'She's going to-day!' was the
+morning hymn that scattered the clouds of
+sleep. Strange to say, it was with no corresponding
+jubilation of spirits that I slowly
+realised the momentous fact. Indeed, as I
+dressed, a dull disagreeable feeling that I could
+not define grew up in me&mdash;something like a
+physical bruise. Harold was evidently feeling
+it too, for after repeating 'She's going to-day!'
+in a tone more befitting the Litany, he looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
+hard in my face for direction as to how the
+situation was to be taken. But I crossly bade
+him look sharp and say his prayers and not
+bother me. What could this gloom portend,
+that on a day of days like the present seemed
+to hang my heavens with black?</p>
+
+<p>Down at last and out in the sun, we found
+Edward before us, swinging on a gate and
+chanting a farm-yard ditty in which all the
+beasts appear in due order, jargoning in their
+several tongues, and every verse begins with
+the couplet:</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+'Now, my lads, come with me,<br />
+Out in the morning early!'<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>The fateful exodus of the day had evidently
+slipped his memory entirely. I touched him
+on the shoulder. 'She's going to-day!' I said.
+Edward's carol subsided like a water-tap turned
+off. 'So she is!' he replied, and got down
+at once off the gate. And we returned to the
+house without another word.</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 331px;">
+<img src="images/ill15.jpg" width="331" height="500" alt="&#39;At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a most mean and uncalled-for manner&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a most mean and uncalled-for manner&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a
+most mean and uncalled-for manner. The
+right divine of governesses to govern wrong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+includes no right to cry. In thus usurping
+the prerogative of their victims they ignore
+the rules of the ring, and hit below the belt.
+Charlotte was crying, of course; but that
+counted for nothing. Charlotte even cried
+when the pigs' noses were ringed in due season;
+thereby evoking the cheery contempt of the
+operators, who asserted they liked it, and doubtless
+knew. But when the cloud-compeller, her
+bolts laid aside, resorted to tears, mutinous
+humanity had a right to feel aggrieved, and
+think itself placed in a false and difficult
+position. What would the Romans have done,
+supposing Hannibal had cried? History has
+not even considered the possibility. Rules and
+precedents should be strictly observed on both
+sides. When they are violated, the other party
+is justified in feeling injured.</p>
+
+<p>There were no lessons that morning, naturally&mdash;another
+grievance! The fitness of things
+required that we should have struggled to the
+last in a confused medley of moods and tenses,
+and parted for ever, flushed with hatred, over
+the dismembered corpse of the multiplication-table.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
+But this thing was not to be; and I
+was free to stroll by myself through the garden,
+and combat, as best I might, this growing
+feeling of depression. It was a wrong system
+altogether, I thought, this going of people one
+had got used to. Things ought always to
+continue as they had been. Change there
+must be, of course; pigs, for instance, came
+and went with disturbing frequency&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+'Fired their ringing shot and passed,<br />
+Hotly charged and sank at last'&mdash;<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>but Nature had ordered it so, and in requital
+had provided for rapid successors. Did you
+come to love a pig, and he was taken from
+you, grief was quickly assuaged in the delight
+of selection from the new litter. But now,
+when it was no question of a peerless pig, but
+only of a governess, Nature seemed helpless, and
+the future held no litter of oblivion. Things
+might be better, or they might be worse, but
+they would never be the same; and the innate
+conservatism of youth asks neither poverty nor
+riches, but only immunity from change.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></div>
+
+<p>Edward slouched up alongside of me presently,
+with a hangdog look on him, as if he
+had been caught stealing jam. 'What a lark
+it'll be when she's really gone!' he observed,
+with a swagger obviously assumed.</p>
+
+<p>'Grand fun!' I replied dolorously; and conversation
+flagged.</p>
+
+<p>We reached the hen-house, and contemplated
+the banner of freedom lying ready to flaunt the
+breezes at the supreme moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you run it up,' I asked, 'when the fly
+starts, or&mdash;or wait a little till it's out of
+sight?'</p>
+
+<p>Edward gazed round him dubiously. 'We're
+going to have some rain, I think,' he said; 'and&mdash;and
+it's a new flag. It would be a pity to
+spoil it. P'raps I won't run it up at all.'</p>
+
+<p>Harold came round the corner like a bison
+pursued by Indians. 'I've polished up the
+cannons,' he cried, 'and they look grand!
+Mayn't I load 'em now?'</p>
+
+<p>'You leave 'em alone,' said Edward severely,
+'or you'll be blowing yourself up' (consideration
+for others was not usually Edward's strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+point). 'Don't touch the gunpowder till you're
+told, or you'll get your head smacked.'</p>
+
+<p>Harold fell behind, limp, squashed, obedient.
+'She wants me to write to her,' he began presently.
+'Says she doesn't mind the spelling, if
+I'll only write. Fancy her saying that!'</p>
+
+<p>'O, shut up, will you?' said Edward
+savagely; and once more we were silent, with
+only our thoughts for sorry company.</p>
+
+<p>'Let's go off to the copse,' I suggested
+timidly, feeling that something had to be done
+to relieve the tension, 'and cut more new bows
+and arrows.'</p>
+
+<p>'She gave me a knife my last birthday,' said
+Edward moodily, never budging. 'It wasn't
+much of a knife&mdash;but I wish I hadn't lost it!'</p>
+
+<p>'When my legs used to ache,' I said, 'she
+sat up half the night, rubbing stuff on them. I
+forgot all about that till this morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'There's the fly!' cried Harold suddenly.
+'I can hear it scrunching on the gravel.'</p>
+
+<p>Then for the first time we turned and stared
+each other in the face.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The fly and its contents had finally disappeared
+through the gate, the rumble of its
+wheels had died away. Yet no flag floated
+defiantly in the sun, no cannons proclaimed the
+passing of a dynasty. From out the frosted
+cake of our existence Fate had cut an irreplaceable
+segment: turn which way we would, the
+void was present. We sneaked off in different
+directions, mutually undesirous of company;
+and it seemed borne in upon me that I ought
+to go and dig my garden right over, from end
+to end. It didn't actually want digging; on
+the other hand no amount of digging could
+affect it, for good or for evil; so I worked
+steadily, strenuously, under the hot sun, stifling
+thought in action. At the end of an hour or
+so, I was joined by Edward.</p>
+
+<p>'I've been chopping up wood,' he explained,
+in a guilty sort of way, though nobody had
+called on him to account for his doings.</p>
+
+<p>'What for?' I inquired stupidly. 'There's
+piles and piles of it chopped up already.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know,' said Edward, 'but there's no harm
+in having a bit over. You never can tell what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
+may happen. But what have you been doing
+all this digging for?'</p>
+
+<p>'You said it was going to rain,' I explained
+hastily. 'So I thought I'd get the digging
+done before it came. Good gardeners always
+tell you that's the right thing to do.'</p>
+
+<p>'It did look like rain at one time,' Edward
+admitted; 'but it's passed off now. Very queer
+weather we're having. I suppose that's why
+I've felt so funny all day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I suppose it's the weather,' I replied.
+'<i>I've</i> been feeling funny too.'</p>
+
+<p>The weather had nothing to do with it, as
+we well knew. But we would both have died
+rather than admit the real reason.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec009.png" width="400" height="148" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE BLUE ROOM</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THAT nature has her moments of sympathy
+with man has been noted often enough,&mdash;and
+generally as a new discovery. To us,
+who had never known any other condition of
+things, it seemed entirely right and fitting that
+the wind sang and sobbed in the poplar tops,
+and, in the lulls of it, sudden spirts of rain
+spattered the already dusty roads, on that blusterous
+March day when Edward and I awaited,
+on the station platform, the arrival of the new
+tutor. Needless to say, this arrangement had
+been planned by an aunt, from some fond idea
+that our shy, innocent young natures would
+unfold themselves during the walk from the
+station, and that, on the revelation of each
+other's more solid qualities that must inevitably
+ensue, an enduring friendship, springing from
+mutual respect, might be firmly based. A
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>pretty dream,&mdash;nothing more. For Edward,
+who foresaw that the brunt of tutorial oppression
+would have to be borne by him, was sulky,
+monosyllabic, and determined to be as negatively
+disagreeable as good manners would permit. It
+was therefore evident that I would have to be
+spokesman and purveyor of hollow civilities, and
+I was none the more amiable on that account;
+all courtesies, welcomes, explanations, and other
+court-chamberlain kind of business, being my
+special aversion. There was much of the tempestuous
+March weather in the hearts of both of
+us, as we sullenly glowered along the carriage-windows
+of the slackening train.</div>
+
+<p>One is apt, however, to misjudge the special
+difficulties of a situation; and the reception
+proved, after all, an easy and informal matter.
+In a trainful so uniformly bucolic, a tutor was
+readily recognisable; and his portmanteau had
+been consigned to the luggage-cart, and his
+person conveyed into the lane, before I had
+discharged one of my carefully considered
+sentences. I breathed more easily, and looking
+up at our new friend as we stepped out together,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+remembered that we had been counting on
+something altogether more arid, scholastic, and
+severe. A boyish eager face and a petulant
+<i>pince-nez</i>&mdash;untidy hair&mdash;a head of constant
+quick turns like a robin's, and a voice that kept
+breaking into alto&mdash;these were all very strange
+and new, but not in the least terrible.</p>
+
+<p>He proceeded jerkily through the village, with
+glances on this side and that; and 'Charming,'
+he broke out presently; 'quite too charming
+and delightful!'</p>
+
+<p>I had not counted on this sort of thing, and
+glanced for help to Edward, who, hands in
+pockets, looked grimly down his nose. He had
+taken his line, and meant to stick to it.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime our friend had made an imaginary
+spy-glass out of his fist, and was squinting
+through it at something I could not perceive.
+'What an exquisite bit!' he burst out. 'Fifteenth
+century&mdash;no&mdash;yes it is!'</p>
+
+<p>I began to feel puzzled, not to say alarmed.
+It reminded me of the butcher in the <i>Arabian
+Nights</i>, whose common joints, displayed on the
+shop-front, took to a startled public the appearance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+of dismembered humanity. This man
+seemed to see the strangest things in our dull,
+familiar surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' he broke out again, as we jogged on
+between hedgerows: 'and that field now&mdash;backed
+by the downs&mdash;with the rain-cloud
+brooding over it,&mdash;that's all David Cox&mdash;every
+bit of it!'</p>
+
+<p>'That field belongs to Farmer Larkin,' I
+explained politely; for of course he could not
+be expected to know. 'I'll take you over to
+Farmer Cox's to-morrow, if he's a friend of
+yours; but there's nothing to see there.'</p>
+
+<p>Edward, who was hanging sullenly behind,
+made a face at me, as if to say, 'What sort of
+lunatic have we got here?'</p>
+
+<p>'It has the true pastoral character, this
+country of yours,' went on our enthusiast: 'with
+just that added touch in cottage and farmstead,
+relics of a bygone art, which makes our English
+landscape so divine, so unique!'</p>
+
+<p>Really this grasshopper was becoming a
+burden! These familiar fields and farms, of
+which we knew every blade and stick, had done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+nothing that I knew of to be bespattered with
+adjectives in this way. I had never thought of
+them as divine, unique, or anything else. They
+were&mdash;well, they were just themselves, and
+there was an end of it. Despairingly I jogged
+Edward in the ribs, as a sign to start rational
+conversation, but he only grinned and continued
+obdurate.</p>
+
+<p>'You can see the house now,' I remarked
+presently; 'and that's Selina, chasing the
+donkey in the paddock. Or is it the donkey
+chasing Selina? I can't quite make out; but
+it's <i>them</i>, anyhow.'</p>
+
+<p>Needless to say, he exploded with a full
+charge of adjectives. 'Exquisite!' he rapped
+out; 'so mellow and harmonious! and so
+entirely in keeping!' (I could see from Edward's
+face that he was thinking who ought to
+be in keeping.) 'Such possibilities of romance,
+now, in those old gables!'</p>
+
+<p>'If you mean the garrets,' I said, 'there's a
+lot of old furniture in them; and one is generally
+full of apples; and the bats get in sometimes,
+under the eaves, and flop about till we go up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
+with hair-brushes and things and drive 'em
+out; but there's nothing else in them that I
+know of.'</p>
+
+<p>'O, but there must be more than bats,' he
+cried. 'Don't tell me there are no ghosts. I
+shall be deeply disappointed if there aren't any
+ghosts.'</p>
+
+<p>I did not think it worth while to reply, feeling
+really unequal to this sort of conversation.
+Besides, we were nearing the house, when my
+task would be ended. Aunt Eliza met us at
+the door, and in the cross-fire of adjectives that
+ensued&mdash;both of them talking at once, as
+grown-up folk have a habit of doing&mdash;we two
+slipped round to the back of the house, and
+speedily put several broad acres between us and
+civilisation, for fear of being ordered in to tea in
+the drawing-room. By the time we returned,
+our new importation had gone up to dress for
+dinner, so till the morrow at least we were free
+of him.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the March wind, after dropping a
+while at sundown, had been steadily increasing
+in volume; and although I fell asleep at my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+usual hour, about midnight I was wakened by
+the stress and the cry of it. In the bright moonlight,
+wind-swung branches tossed and swayed
+eerily across the blinds; there was rumbling in
+chimneys, whistling in keyholes, and everywhere
+a clamour and a call. Sleep was out of
+the question, and, sitting up in bed, I looked
+round. Edward sat up too. 'I was wondering
+when you were going to wake,' he said. 'It's
+no good trying to sleep through this. <i>I</i> vote
+we get up and do something.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm game,' I replied. 'Let's play at being
+in a ship at sea' (the plaint of the old house
+under the buffeting wind suggested this, naturally);
+'and we can be wrecked on an island,
+or left on a raft, whichever you choose; but I
+like an island best myself, because there's more
+things on it.'</p>
+
+<p>Edward on reflection negatived the idea. 'It
+would make too much noise,' he pointed out.
+'There's no fun playing at ships, unless you
+can make a jolly good row.'</p>
+
+<p>The door creaked, and a small figure in white
+slipped cautiously in. 'Thought I heard you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+talking,' said Charlotte. 'We don't like it;
+we're afraid&mdash;Selina too! She'll be here in a
+minute. She's putting on her new dressing-gown
+she's so proud of.'</p>
+
+<p>His arms round his knees, Edward cogitated
+deeply until Selina appeared, barefooted, and
+looking slim and tall in the new dressing-gown.
+Then, 'Look here,' he exclaimed; 'now we're
+all together, I vote we go and explore!'</p>
+
+<p>'You're always wanting to explore,' I said.
+'What on earth is there to explore for in this
+house?'</p>
+
+<p>'Biscuits!' said the inspired Edward.</p>
+
+<p>'Hooray! Come on!' chimed in Harold,
+sitting up suddenly. He had been awake all
+the time, but had been shamming asleep, lest
+he should be fagged to do anything.</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed a fact, as Edward had remembered,
+that our thoughtless elders occasionally
+left the biscuits out, a prize for the night-walking
+adventurer with nerves of steel.</p>
+
+<p>Edward tumbled out of bed, and pulled a
+baggy old pair of knickerbockers over his bare
+shanks. Then he girt himself with a belt, into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
+which he thrust, on the one side a large wooden
+pistol, on the other an old single-stick; and
+finally he donned a big slouch-hat&mdash;once an
+uncle's&mdash;that we used for playing Guy Fawkes
+and Charles-the-Second-up-a-tree in. Whatever
+the audience, Edward, if possible, always
+dressed for his parts with care and conscientiousness;
+while Harold and I, true Elizabethans,
+cared little about the mounting of the
+piece, so long as the real dramatic heart of it
+beat sound.</p>
+
+<p>Our commander now enjoined on us a silence
+deep as the grave, reminding us that Aunt Eliza
+usually slept with an open door, past which we
+had to file.</p>
+
+<p>'But we'll take the short cut through the
+Blue Room,' said the wary Selina.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course,' said Edward approvingly. 'I forgot
+about that. Now then! You lead the way!'</p>
+
+<p>The Blue Room had in prehistoric times been
+added to by taking in a superfluous passage, and
+so not only had the advantage of two doors, but
+also enabled us to get to the head of the stairs
+without passing the chamber wherein our dragon-aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
+lay couched. It was rarely occupied,
+except when a casual uncle came down for the
+night. We entered in noiseless file, the room
+being plunged in darkness, except for a bright
+strip of moonlight on the floor, across which we
+must pass for our exit. On this our leading
+lady chose to pause, seizing the opportunity
+to study the hang of her new dressing-gown.
+Greatly satisfied thereat, she proceeded, after
+the feminine fashion, to peacock and to pose,
+pacing a minuet down the moonlit patch with
+an imaginary partner. This was too much for
+Edward's histrionic instincts, and after a
+moment's pause he drew his single-stick, and,
+with flourishes meet for the occasion, strode on
+to the stage. A struggle ensued on approved
+lines, at the end of which Selina was stabbed
+slowly and with unction, and her corpse borne
+from the chamber by the ruthless cavalier.
+The rest of us rushed after in a clump, with
+capers and gesticulations of delight; the special
+charm of the performance lying in the necessity
+for its being carried out with the dumbest of
+dumb shows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Once out on the dark landing, the noise of the
+storm without told us that we had exaggerated
+the necessity for silence; so, grasping the tails
+of each other's nightgowns, even as Alpine
+climbers rope themselves together in perilous
+places, we fared stoutly down the staircase-moraine,
+and across the grim glacier of the
+hall, to where a faint glimmer from the half-open
+door of the drawing-room beckoned to us
+like friendly hostel-lights. Entering, we found
+that our thriftless seniors had left the sound red
+heart of a fire, easily coaxed into a cheerful
+blaze; and biscuits&mdash;a plateful&mdash;smiled at us
+in an encouraging sort of way, together with the
+halves of a lemon, already squeezed, but still
+suckable. The biscuits were righteously shared,
+the lemon segments passed from mouth to
+mouth; and as we squatted round the fire, its
+genial warmth consoling our unclad limbs, we
+realised that so many nocturnal perils had not
+been braved in vain.</p>
+
+<p>'It's a funny thing,' said Edward, as we
+chatted, 'how I hate this room in the daytime.
+It always means having your face washed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
+your hair brushed, and talking silly company
+talk. But to-night it's really quite jolly.
+Looks different, somehow.'</p>
+
+<p>'I never can make out,' I said, 'what people
+come here to tea for. They can have their
+own tea at home if they like&mdash;they're not
+poor people&mdash;with jam and things, and drink
+out of their saucer, and suck their fingers and
+enjoy themselves; but they come here from a
+long way off, and sit up straight with their feet
+off the bars of their chairs, and have one cup,
+and talk the same sort of stuff every time.'</p>
+
+<p>Selina sniffed disdainfully. 'You don't know
+anything about it,' she said. 'In society you
+have to call on each other. It's the proper
+thing to do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pooh! <i>you're</i> not in society,' said Edward
+politely; 'and, what's more, you never will be.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I shall, some day,' retorted Selina;
+'but I shan't ask you to come and see me, so
+there!'</p>
+
+<p>'Wouldn't come if you did,' growled Edward.</p>
+
+<p>'Well you won't get the chance,' rejoined
+our sister, claiming her right of the last word.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+There was no heat about these little amenities,
+which made up&mdash;as understood by us&mdash;the art
+of polite conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't like society people,' put in Harold
+from the sofa, where he was sprawling at full
+length&mdash;a sight the daylight hours would have
+blushed to witness. 'There were some of 'em
+here this afternoon, when you two had gone off
+to the station. O, and I found a dead mouse
+on the lawn, and I wanted to skin it, but I
+wasn't sure I knew how, by myself; and they
+came out into the garden, and patted my head&mdash;I
+wish people wouldn't do that&mdash;and one of
+'em asked me to pick her a flower. Don't
+know why she couldn't pick it herself; but I
+said, "All right, I will if you'll hold my mouse."
+But she screamed, and threw it away; and
+Augustus (the cat) got it, and ran away with it.
+I believe it was really his mouse all the time,
+'cos he'd been looking about as if he had lost
+something, so I wasn't angry with <i>him</i>. But
+what did <i>she</i> want to throw away my mouse
+for?'</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 352px;">
+<img src="images/ill16.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt="&#39;The procession passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue Room&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;The procession passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue Room&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'You have to be careful with mice,' reflected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
+Edward; 'they're such slippery things. Do
+you remember we were playing with a dead
+mouse once on the piano, and the mouse was
+Robinson Crusoe, and the piano was the island,
+and somehow Crusoe slipped down inside the
+island, into its works, and we couldn't get him
+out, though we tried rakes and all sorts of things,
+till the tuner came. And that wasn't till a
+week after, and then&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Here Charlotte, who had been nodding solemnly,
+fell over into the fender; and we realised
+that the wind had dropped at last, and the house
+was lapped in a great stillness. Our vacant
+beds seemed to be calling to us imperiously; and
+we were all glad when Edward gave the signal
+for retreat. At the top of the staircase Harold
+unexpectedly turned mutinous, insisting on his
+right to slide down the banisters in a free
+country. Circumstances did not allow of argument;
+I suggested frog's-marching instead, and
+accordingly frog's-marched he was, the procession
+passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue
+Room, with Harold horizontal and limply submissive.
+Snug in bed at last, I was just slipping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
+off into slumber when I heard Edward explode,
+with chuckle and snort.</p>
+
+<p>'By Jove!' he said; 'I forgot all about
+it. The new tutor's sleeping in the Blue
+Room!'</p>
+
+<p>'Lucky he didn't wake up and catch us,' I
+grunted drowsily; and, without another thought
+on the matter, we both sank into well-earned
+repose.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, coming down to breakfast
+braced to grapple with fresh adversity, we were
+surprised to find our garrulous friend of the
+previous day&mdash;he was late in making his
+appearance&mdash;strangely silent and (apparently)
+pre-occupied. Having polished off our porridge,
+we ran out to feed the rabbits, explaining to
+them that a beast of a tutor would prevent
+their enjoying so much of our society as
+formerly.</p>
+
+<p>On returning to the house at the fated hour
+appointed for study, we were thunderstruck to
+see the station-cart disappearing down the drive,
+freighted with our new acquaintance. Aunt
+Eliza was brutally uncommunicative; but she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
+was overheard to remark casually that she
+thought the man must be a lunatic. In this
+theory we were only too ready to concur, dismissing
+thereafter the whole matter from our
+minds.</p>
+
+<p>Some weeks later it happened that Uncle
+Thomas, while paying us a flying visit, produced
+from his pocket a copy of the latest weekly,
+<i>Psyche: a Journal of the Unseen</i>; and proceeded
+laboriously to rid himself of much
+incomprehensible humour, apparently at our
+expense. We bore it patiently, with the forced
+grin demanded by convention, anxious to get
+at the source of inspiration, which it presently
+appeared lay in a paragraph circumstantially
+describing our modest and humdrum habitation.
+'Case <span class="smcap">iii</span>.,' it began. 'The following particulars
+were communicated by a young member of
+the Society, of undoubted probity and earnestness,
+and are a chronicle of actual and recent
+experience.' A fairly accurate description of
+the house followed, with details that were unmistakable;
+but to this there succeeded a flood
+of meaningless drivel about apparitions, nightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
+visitants, and the like, writ in a manner
+betokening a disordered mind, coupled with a
+feeble imagination. The fellow was not even
+original. All the old material was there&mdash;the
+storm at night, the haunted chamber, the white
+lady, the murder re-enacted, and so on&mdash;already
+worn threadbare in many a Christmas Number.
+No one was able to make head or tail of the
+stuff, or of its connexion with our quiet mansion;
+and yet Edward, who had always suspected the
+fellow, persisted in maintaining that our tutor
+of a brief span was, somehow or other, at the
+bottom of it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec010.png" width="400" height="137" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A FALLING OUT</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>HAROLD told me the main facts of this
+episode some time later,&mdash;in bits and
+with reluctance. It was not a recollection he
+cared to talk about. The crude blank misery
+of a moment is apt to leave a dull bruise which
+is slow to depart, if it ever do so entirely; and
+Harold confesses to a twinge or two, still, at
+times, like the veteran who brings home a bullet
+inside him from martial plains over sea.</div>
+
+<p>He knew he was a brute the moment he had
+done it. Selina had not meant to worry, only
+to comfort and assist. But his soul was one
+raw sore within him, when he found himself
+shut up in the schoolroom after hours, merely
+for insisting that 7 times 7 amounted to 47.
+The injustice of it seemed so flagrant. Why
+not 47 as much as 49! One number was no
+prettier than the other to look at, and it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
+evidently only a matter of arbitrary taste and
+preference, and, anyhow, it had always been
+47 to him, and would be to the end of time.
+So when Selina came in out of the sun, leaving
+the Trappers of the Far West behind her, and
+putting off the glory of being an Apache squaw
+in order to hear him his tables and win his
+release, Harold turned on her venomously, rejected
+her kindly overtures, and even drove his
+elbow into her sympathetic ribs, in his determination
+to be left alone in the glory of sulks.
+The fit passed directly, his eyes were opened,
+and his soul sat in the dust as he sorrowfully
+began to cast about for some atonement heroic
+enough to salve the wrong.</p>
+
+<p>Of course poor Selina looked for no sacrifice
+nor heroics whatever; she didn't even want him
+to say he was sorry. If he would only make it
+up, she would have done the apologising part
+herself. But that was not a boy's way. Something
+solid, Harold felt, was due from him; and
+until that was achieved, making-up must not
+be thought of, in order that the final effect
+might not be spoilt. Accordingly, when his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
+release came, and Selina hung about trying to
+catch his eye, Harold, possessed by the demon
+of a distorted motive, avoided her steadily&mdash;though
+he was bleeding inwardly at every
+minute of delay&mdash;and came to me instead.
+Needless to say, I warmly approved his plan.
+It was so much more high-toned than just
+going and making-up tamely, which any one
+could do; and a girl who had been <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'jobbed'">jabbed</ins>
+in the ribs by a hostile elbow could not be
+expected for a moment to overlook it, without
+the liniment of an offering to soothe her injured
+feelings.</p>
+
+<p>'I know what she wants most,' said Harold.
+'She wants that set of tea-things in the toyshop
+window, with the red and blue flowers on 'em;
+she's wanted it for months, 'cos her dolls are
+getting big enough to have real afternoon tea;
+and she wants it so badly that she won't walk
+that side of the street when we go into the
+town. But it costs five shillings!'</p>
+
+<p>Then we set to work seriously, and devoted
+the afternoon to a realisation of assets and the
+composition of a Budget that might have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
+dated without shame from Whitehall. The
+result worked out as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Budget">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>s.</i></td><td align='center'><i>d.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By one uncle, unspent through having been lost for nearly a week&mdash;turned up at last in the straw of the dog-kennel</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>2</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By advance from me on security of next uncle, and failing that, to be called in at Christmas</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>1</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By shaken out of missionary-box with the help of a knife-blade. (They were our own pennies and a forced levy)</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By bet due from Edward, for walking across the field where Farmer Larkin's bull was, and Edward bet him twopence he wouldn't&mdash;called in with difficulty</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>2</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By advance from Martha, on no security at all, only you mustn't tell your aunt</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>1</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right' colspan='2'>&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'> Total&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='center'>5</td><td align='center'>0</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<div class='unindent'>and at last we breathed again.</div>
+
+<p>The rest promised to be easy. Selina had a
+tea-party at five on the morrow, with the chipped
+old wooden tea-things that had served her successive
+dolls from babyhood. Harold would
+slip off directly after dinner, going alone, so as
+not to arouse suspicion, as we were not allowed
+to go into the town by ourselves. It was nearly
+two miles to our small metropolis, but there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
+would be plenty of time for him to go and
+return, even laden with the olive-branch neatly
+packed in shavings. Besides, he might meet the
+butcher, who was his friend and would give him
+a lift. Then, finally, at five, the rapture of the
+new tea-service, descended from the skies; and,
+retribution made, making-up at last, without
+loss of dignity. With the event before us, we
+thought it a small thing that twenty-four hours
+more of alienation and pretended sulks must
+be kept up on Harold's part; but Selina, who
+naturally knew nothing of the treat in store for
+her, moped for the rest of the evening, and took
+a very heavy heart to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Next day when the hour for action arrived,
+Harold evaded Olympian attention with an
+easy modesty born of long practice, and made
+off for the front gate. Selina, who had been
+keeping her eye upon him, thought he was
+going down to the pond to catch frogs, a joy
+they had planned to share together, and made
+after him. But Harold, though he heard her
+footsteps, continued sternly on his high mission,
+without even looking back; and Selina was left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+to wander disconsolately among flower-beds that
+had lost&mdash;for her&mdash;all scent and colour. I saw
+it all, and, although cold reason approved our
+line of action, instinct told me we were brutes.</p>
+
+<p>Harold reached the town&mdash;so he recounted
+afterwards&mdash;in record time, having run most
+of the way for fear the tea-things, which had
+reposed six months in the window, should be
+snapped up by some other conscience-stricken
+lacerator of a sister's feelings; and it seemed
+hardly credible to find them still there, and
+their owner willing to part with them for the
+price marked on the ticket. He paid his money
+down at once, that there should be no drawing
+back from the bargain; and then, as the things
+had to be taken out of the window and packed,
+and the afternoon was yet young, he thought
+he might treat himself to a taste of urban joys
+and the <i>vie de Boh&ecirc;me</i>. Shops came first, of
+course, and he flattened his nose successively
+against the window with the indiarubber balls
+in it, and the clock-work locomotive; and
+against the barber's window, with wigs on
+blocks, reminding him of uncles, and shaving-cream<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+that looked so good to eat; and the
+grocer's window, displaying more currants than
+the whole British population could possibly
+consume without a special effort; and the
+window of the bank, wherein gold was thought
+so little of that it was dealt about in shovels.
+Next there was the market-place, with all its
+clamorous joys; and when a runaway calf came
+down the street like a cannon-ball, Harold felt
+that he had not lived in vain. The whole place
+was so brimful of excitement that he had quite
+forgotten the why and the wherefore of his
+being there, when a sight of the church clock
+recalled him to his better self, and sent him
+flying out of the town, as he realised he had
+only just time enough left to get back in. If
+he were after his appointed hour, he would not
+only miss his high triumph, but probably would
+be detected as a transgressor of bounds&mdash;a
+crime before which a private opinion on multiplication
+sank to nothingness. So he jogged
+along on his homeward way, thinking of many
+things, and probably talking to himself a good
+deal, as his habit was. He had covered nearly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
+half the distance, when suddenly&mdash;a deadly
+sinking in the pit of his stomach&mdash;a paralysis
+of every limb&mdash;around him a world extinct of
+light and music&mdash;a black sun and a reeling
+sky&mdash;he had forgotten the tea-things!</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 341px;">
+<img src="images/ill17.jpg" width="341" height="500" alt="&#39;&quot;Why, Master Harold! whatever be the matter? Baint runnin&#39; away, be ee?&quot;&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;&quot;Why, Master Harold! whatever be the matter? Baint runnin&#39; away, be ee?&quot;&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was useless, it was hopeless, all was over
+and nothing could now be done. Nevertheless
+he turned and ran back wildly, blindly, choking
+with the big sobs that evoked neither pity nor
+comfort from a merciless mocking world around;
+a stitch in his side, dust in his eyes, and black
+despair clutching at his heart. So he stumbled
+on, with leaden legs and bursting sides, till&mdash;as
+if Fate had not yet dealt him her last worst
+buffet of all&mdash;on turning a corner in the road
+he almost ran under the wheels of a dog-cart,
+in which, as it pulled up, was apparent the
+portly form of Farmer Larkin, the arch-enemy,
+at whose ducks he had been shying stones that
+very morning!</p>
+
+<p>Had Harold been in his right and unclouded
+senses, he would have vanished through the
+hedge some seconds earlier, rather than pain
+the farmer by any unpleasant reminiscences<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+which his appearance might recall; but, as
+things were, he could only stand and blubber
+hopelessly, caring, indeed, little now what
+further misery might befall him. The farmer,
+for his part, surveyed the desolate figure with
+some astonishment, calling out in no unfriendly
+accents, 'Why, Master Harold! whatever be
+the matter? Baint runnin' away, be ee?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Harold, with the unnatural courage
+born of desperation, flung himself on the step,
+and, climbing into the cart, fell in the straw at
+the bottom of it, sobbing out that he wanted to
+go back, go back! The situation had a vagueness;
+but the farmer, a man of action rather
+than of words, swung his horse round smartly,
+and they were in the town again by the time
+Harold had recovered himself sufficiently to
+furnish details. As they drove up to the shop,
+the woman was waiting at the door with the
+parcel; and hardly a minute seemed to have
+elapsed since the black crisis, ere they were
+bowling along swiftly home, the precious parcel
+hugged in a close embrace.</p>
+
+<p>And now the farmer came out in quite a new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+and unexpected light. Never a word did he
+say of broken fences and hurdles, of trampled
+crops and harried flocks and herds. One would
+have thought the man had never possessed a
+head of live stock in his life. Instead, he was
+deeply interested in the whole dolorous quest
+of the tea-things, and sympathised with Harold
+on the disputed point in mathematics as if he
+had been himself at the same stage of education.
+As they neared home, Harold found
+himself, to his surprise, sitting up and chatting
+to his new friend like man to man; and before
+he was set down at a convenient gap in the
+garden hedge, he had promised that when
+Selina gave her first public tea-party, little Miss
+Larkin should be invited to come and bring
+her whole sawdust family along with her; and
+the farmer appeared as pleased and proud as if
+he had won a gold medal at the Agricultural
+Show, and really, when I heard the story, it
+began to dawn upon me that those Olympians
+must have certain good points, far down in
+them, and that I should have to leave off
+abusing them some day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At the hour of five, Selina, having spent the
+afternoon searching for Harold in all his accustomed
+haunts, sat down disconsolately to tea
+with her dolls, who ungenerously refused to
+wait beyond the appointed hour. The wooden
+tea-things seemed more chipped than usual;
+and the dolls themselves had more of wax and
+sawdust, and less of human colour and intelligence
+about them, than she ever remembered
+before. It was then that Harold burst in, very
+dusty, his stockings at his heels, and the
+channels ploughed by tears still showing on his
+grimy cheeks; and Selina was at last permitted
+to know that he had been thinking of her ever
+since his ill-judged exhibition of temper, and
+that his sulks had not been the genuine article,
+nor had he gone frogging by himself. It was a
+very happy hostess who dispensed hospitality
+that evening to a glassy-eyed stiff-kneed circle;
+and many a dollish <i>gaucherie</i>, that would have
+been severely checked on ordinary occasions,
+was as much overlooked as if it had been a
+birthday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Harold and I, in what I was afterwards
+given to understand was our stupid masculine
+way, thought all her happiness sprang from
+possession of the long-coveted tea-service.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec011.png" width="400" height="144" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p>
+<h2>'LUSISTI SATIS'</h2>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>AMONG the many fatuous ideas that possessed
+the Olympian noddle, this one was
+pre-eminent; that, being Olympians, they could
+talk quite freely in our presence on subjects of
+the closest import to us, so long as names, dates,
+and other landmarks were ignored. We were
+supposed to be denied the faculty for putting
+two and two together, and like the monkeys,
+who very sensibly refrain from speech lest they
+should be set to earn their livings, we were
+careful to conceal our capabilities for a simple
+syllogism. Thus we were rarely taken by surprise,
+and so were considered by our disappointed
+elders to be apathetic and to lack the divine
+capacity for wonder.</div>
+
+<p>Now the daily output of the letter-bag, with
+the mysterious discussions that ensued thereon,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
+had speedily informed us that Uncle Thomas
+was intrusted with a mission&mdash;a mission, too,
+affecting ourselves. Uncle Thomas's missions
+were many and various. A self-important man,
+one liking the business while protesting that he
+sank under the burden, he was the missionary,
+so to speak, of our remote habitation. The
+matching a ribbon, the running down to the
+stores, the interviewing a cook&mdash;these and
+similar duties lent constant colour and variety
+to his vacant life in London, and helped to keep
+down his figure. When the matter, however,
+had in our presence to be referred to with nods
+and pronouns, with significant hiatuses and
+interpolations in the French tongue, then the
+red flag was flown, the storm-cone hoisted, and
+by a studious pretence of inattention we were
+not long in plucking out the heart of the
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p>To clinch our conclusion, we descended
+suddenly and together on Martha; proceeding,
+however, not by simple inquiry as to facts&mdash;that
+would never have done; but by informing
+her that the air was full of school and that we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+knew all about it, and then challenging denial.
+Martha was a trusty soul, but a bad witness for
+the defence, and we soon had it all out of her.
+The word had gone forth, the school had been
+selected; the necessary sheets were hemming
+even now, and Edward was the designated and
+appointed victim.</p>
+
+<p>It had always been before us as an inevitable
+bourne, this strange unknown thing called
+school; and yet&mdash;perhaps I should say consequently&mdash;we
+had never seriously set ourselves
+to consider what it really meant. But now that
+the grim spectre loomed imminent, stretching
+lean hands for one of our flock, it behoved us
+to face the situation, to take soundings in this
+uncharted sea and find out whither we were
+drifting. Unfortunately the data in our possession
+were absolutely insufficient, and we knew
+not whither to turn for exact information.
+Uncle Thomas could have told us all about
+it, of course; he had been there himself, once,
+in the dim and misty past. But an unfortunate
+conviction, that nature had intended him for
+a humorist, tainted all his evidence, besides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
+making it wearisome to hear. Again, of such
+among our contemporaries as we had approached,
+the trumpets gave forth an uncertain
+sound. According to some it meant larks,
+revels, emancipation, and a foretaste of the
+bliss of manhood. According to others&mdash;the
+majority, alas!&mdash;it was a private and peculiar
+Hades, that could give the original institution
+points and a beating. When Edward was observed
+to be swaggering round with a jaunty air
+and his chest stuck out, I knew that he was contemplating
+his future from the one point of view.
+When, on the contrary, he was subdued and
+unaggressive, and sought the society of his
+sisters, I recognised that the other aspect was
+in the ascendant. 'You can always run away,
+you know,' I used to remark consolingly on
+these latter occasions; and Edward would
+brighten up wonderfully at the suggestion,
+while Charlotte melted into tears before her
+vision of a brother with blistered feet and an
+empty belly, passing nights of frost 'neath the
+lee of windy haystacks.</p>
+
+<p>It was to Edward, of course, that the situation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+was chiefly productive of anxiety; and yet the
+ensuing change in my own circumstances and
+position furnished me also with food for grave
+reflexion. Hitherto I had acted mostly to
+orders. Even when I had devised and counselled
+any particular devilry, it had been carried
+out on Edward's approbation, and&mdash;as eldest&mdash;at
+his special risk. Henceforward I began to
+be anxious of the bugbear Responsibility, and
+to realise what a soul-throttling thing it is.
+True, my new position would have its compensations.
+Edward had been masterful exceedingly, imperious,
+perhaps a little narrow;
+impassioned for hard facts, and with scant sympathy
+for make-believe. I should now be free
+and untrammelled; in the conception and the
+carrying out of a scheme, I could accept and
+reject to better artistic purpose.</p>
+
+<p>It would, moreover, be needless to be a Radical
+any more. Radical I never was, really, by
+nature or by sympathy. The part had been
+thrust on me one day, when Edward proposed
+to foist the House of Lords on our small republic.
+The principles of the thing he set forth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
+learnedly and well, and it all sounded promising
+enough, till he went on to explain that, for the
+present at least, he proposed to be the House
+of Lords himself. We others were to be the
+Commons. There would be promotions, of
+course, he added, dependent on service and on
+fitness, and open to both sexes; and to me in
+especial he held out hopes of speedy advancement.
+But in its initial stages the thing
+wouldn't work properly unless he were first
+and only Lord. Then I put my foot down
+promptly, and said it was all rot, and I didn't
+see the good of any House of Lords at all.
+'Then you must be a low Radical!' said
+Edward, with fine contempt. The inference
+seemed hardly necessary, but what could I do?
+I accepted the situation, and said firmly, Yes, I
+was a low Radical. In this monstrous character
+I had been obliged to masquerade ever
+since; but now I could throw it off, and look
+the world in the face again.</p>
+
+<p>And yet, did this and other gains really
+outbalance my losses? Henceforth I should,
+it was true, be leader and chief; but I should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
+also be the buffer between the Olympians and
+my little clan. To Edward this had been
+nothing; he had withstood the impact of
+Olympus without flinching, like Teneriffe or
+Atlas unremoved. But was I equal to the
+task? And was there not rather a danger that
+for the sake of peace and quietness I might be
+tempted to compromise, compound, and make
+terms? sinking thus, by successive lapses, into
+the Blameless Prig? I don't mean, of course,
+that I thought out my thoughts to the exact
+point here set down. In those fortunate days
+of old one was free from the hard necessity of
+transmuting the vague idea into the mechanical
+inadequate medium of words. But the feeling
+was there, that I might not possess the qualities
+of character for so delicate a position.</p>
+
+<p>The unnatural halo round Edward got more
+pronounced, his own demeanour more responsible
+and dignified, with the arrival of his new
+clothes. When his trunk and play-box were
+sent in, the approaching cleavage between our
+brother, who now belonged to the future, and
+ourselves, still claimed by the past, was accentuated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
+indeed. His name was painted on each
+of them, in large letters, and after their arrival
+their owner used to disappear mysteriously, and
+be found eventually wandering round his luggage,
+murmuring to himself, 'Edward &mdash;&mdash;,' in a rapt
+remote sort of way. It was a weakness, of
+course, and pointed to a soft spot in his character;
+but those who can remember the sensation
+of first seeing their names in print will not
+think hardly of him.</p>
+
+<p>As the short days sped by and the grim event
+cast its shadow longer and longer across our
+threshold, an unnatural politeness, a civility
+scarce canny, began to pervade the air. In
+those latter hours Edward himself was frequently
+heard to say 'Please,' and also 'Would
+you mind fetchin' that ball?' while Harold and
+I would sometimes actually find ourselves trying
+to anticipate his wishes. As for the girls, they
+simply grovelled. The Olympians, too, in their
+uncouth way, by gift of carnal delicacies and
+such-like indulgence, seemed anxious to demonstrate
+that they had hitherto misjudged this one
+of us. Altogether the situation grew strained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
+and false, and I think a general relief was felt
+when the end came.</p>
+
+<p>We all trooped down to the station, of course;
+it is only in later years that the farce of 'seeing
+people off' is seen in its true colours. Edward
+was the life and soul of the party; and if his
+gaiety struck one at times as being a trifle
+overdone, it was not a moment to be critical.
+As we tramped along, I promised him I would
+ask Farmer Larkin not to kill any more pigs
+till he came back for the holidays, and he said
+he would send me a proper catapult,&mdash;the real
+lethal article, not a kid's plaything. Then
+suddenly, when we were about half-way down,
+one of the girls fell a-snivelling.</p>
+
+<p>The happy few who dare to laugh at the woes
+of sea-sickness will perhaps remember how, on
+occasion, the sudden collapse of a fellow-voyager
+before their very eyes has caused them hastily to
+revise their self-confidence and resolve to walk
+more humbly for the future. Even so it was
+with Edward, who turned his head aside, feigning
+an interest in the landscape. It was but for
+a moment; then he recollected the hat he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+wearing&mdash;a hard bowler, the first of that sort
+he had ever owned. He took it off, examined
+it, and felt it over. Something about it seemed
+to give him strength, and he was a man once
+more.</p>
+
+<p>At the station, Edward's first care was to
+dispose his boxes on the platform so that every
+one might see the labels and the lettering
+thereon. One did not go to school for the first
+time every day! Then he read both sides of
+his ticket carefully; shifted it to every one of
+his pockets in turn; and finally fell to chinking
+of his money, to keep his courage up. We
+were all dry of conversation by this time, and
+could only stand round and stare in silence
+at the victim decked for the altar. And, as I
+looked at Edward, in new clothes of a manly
+cut, with a hard hat upon his head, a railway
+ticket in one pocket and money of his own in
+the other&mdash;money to spend as he liked and no
+questions asked!&mdash;I began to feel dimly how
+great was the gulf already yawning betwixt us.
+Fortunately I was not old enough to realise,
+further, that here on this little platform the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
+order lay at its last gasp, and that Edward might
+come back to us, but it would not be the Edward
+of yore, nor could things ever be the same again.</p>
+
+<p>When the train steamed up at last, we all
+boarded it impetuously with the view of selecting
+the one peerless carriage to which Edward
+might be intrusted with the greatest comfort
+and honour; and as each one found the ideal
+compartment at the same moment, and vociferously
+maintained its merits, he stood some
+chance for a time of being left behind. A porter
+settled the matter by heaving him through the
+nearest door; and as the train moved off,
+Edward's head was thrust out of the window,
+wearing on it an unmistakable first-quality grin
+that he had been saving up somewhere for the
+supreme moment. Very small and white his
+face looked, on the long side of the retreating
+train. But the grin was visible, undeniable,
+stoutly maintained; till a curve swept him from
+our sight, and he was borne away in the dying
+rumble, out of our placid backwater, out into the
+busy world of rubs and knocks and competition,
+out into the New Life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 335px;">
+<img src="images/ill18.jpg" width="335" height="500" alt="&#39;Finally we found ourselves sitting silent on an upturned wheelbarrow&#39;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Finally we found ourselves sitting silent on an upturned wheelbarrow&#39;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>When a crab has lost a leg, his gait is still
+more awkward than his wont, till Time and
+healing Nature make him <i>totus teres atque
+rotundus</i> once more. We straggled back from
+the station disjointedly; Harold, who was very
+silent, sticking close to me, his last slender
+prop, while the girls in front, their heads together,
+were already reckoning up the weeks to
+the holidays. Home at last, Harold suggested
+one or two occupations of a spicy and contraband
+flavour, but though we did our manful best there
+was no knocking any interest out of them. Then
+I suggested others, with the same want of success.
+Finally we found ourselves sitting silent
+on an upturned wheelbarrow, our chins on our
+fists, staring haggardly into the raw new conditions
+of our changed life, the ruins of a past
+behind our backs.</p>
+
+<p>And all the while Selina and Charlotte were
+busy stuffing Edward's rabbits with unwonted
+forage, bilious and green; polishing up the cage
+of his mice till the occupants raved and swore
+like householders in spring-time; and collecting
+materials for new bows and arrows, whips, boats,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
+guns, and four-in-hand harness, against the
+return of Ulysses. Little did they dream that
+the hero, once back from Troy and all its onsets,
+would scornfully condemn their clumsy but
+laborious armoury as rot and humbug and
+only fit for kids! This, with many another
+like awakening, was mercifully hidden from
+them. Could the veil have been lifted, and the
+girls permitted to see Edward as he would
+appear a short three months hence, ragged
+of attire and lawless of tongue, a scorner of
+tradition and an adept in strange new physical
+tortures, one who would in the same half-hour
+dismember a doll and shatter a hallowed belief,&mdash;in
+fine, a sort of swaggering Captain, fresh
+from the Spanish Main,&mdash;could they have had
+the least hint of this, well, then perhaps&mdash;&mdash;.
+But which of us is of mental fibre to stand the
+test of a glimpse into futurity? Let us only
+hope that, even with certain disillusionment
+ahead, the girls would have acted precisely
+as they did.</p>
+
+<p>And perhaps we have reason to be very grateful
+that, both as children and long afterwards,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+we are never allowed to guess how the absorbing
+pursuit of the moment will appear not only to
+others but to ourselves, a very short time hence.
+So we pass, with a gusto and a heartiness that
+to an onlooker would seem almost pathetic, from
+one droll devotion to another misshapen passion;
+and who shall dare to play Rhadamanthus, to
+appraise the record, and to decide how much
+of it is solid achievement, and how much the
+merest child's play?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/dec012.png" width="400" height="120" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><span class="u">BOOKS BY KENNETH GRAHAME</span></h2>
+
+
+<h3><span class="u">DREAM DAYS</span></h3>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE OUTLOOK.&mdash;'Nobody with a sense of what is rare and humorous
+and true can afford to miss this volume.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>LITERATURE.&mdash;'In "Dream Days" we are conscious of the same
+magic touch which charmed us in "The Golden Age." There is
+magic in all the sketches, but it is perhaps in "Its Walls were as of
+Jasper"&mdash;the beautiful title of a beautiful story&mdash;that Mr. Grahame
+stands confessed as a veritable wizard.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE DAILY TELEGRAPH.&mdash;'Happy Mr. Grahame, who can weave
+romances so well.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE WORLD.&mdash;'Could only have been written by a poet full of
+happy imaginings, quaint conceits, and a certain winsome waywardness
+which has a charm of its own.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The closing chapter is full
+of a tenderness and reticent pathos far above anything the author
+has yet achieved. It is certainly a book to be read, for it would be a
+pity to miss the many exquisite passages it contains.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE DAILY MAIL.&mdash;'Mr. Grahame's book will bring youth and
+joy into many a jaded heart.'<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<h3><span class="u">THE HEADSWOMAN</span></h3>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE BOOKMAN.&mdash;'Mr. Grahame's cleverness does not forsake him
+when he attempts satire. "The Headswoman" is a pretty bit of
+foolery.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE LITERARY WORLD.&mdash;'A delightful little tale with a tinge
+of satire in it. For gracefulness of style and charm in the telling of
+a story it is in the front rank, and that is saying a great deal.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>MR. W. L. COURTNEY IN DAILY TELEGRAPH.&mdash;'Well, we are
+more than a trifle dull, <i>nous autres</i>; and we should be grateful to
+Mr. Kenneth Grahame for throwing in a story or two of his own
+as often as he can. Happy Mr. Grahame, who can weave romances
+so well.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE DUNDEE ADVERTISER.&mdash;'Humour is not dead amongst us,
+for Kenneth Grahame's witty little romance of "The Headswoman"
+brims over with it.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE SCOTSMAN.&mdash;'Mr. Grahame has written a most charming
+book, which cannot fail to delight all who were once children.'<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><span class="u">THE GOLDEN AGE</span></h3>
+
+<div class='hang1'>MR. I. ZANGWILL IN PALL MALL MAGAZINE.&mdash;'No more enjoyable
+interpretation of the child's mind has been accorded us since
+Stevenson's "Child's Garden of Verses."</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>MR. A. C. SWINBURNE IN THE DAILY CHRONICLE SAYS,&mdash;'The
+art of writing adequately and acceptively about children is
+among the rarest and most precious of all arts.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. "The Golden
+Age" is one of the few books which are well-nigh too praiseworthy
+for praise.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE NATIONAL OBSERVER.&mdash;'If there is a man or woman living
+who cannot read this book with delight, to him or her we offer our
+pity and compassion.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>PROFESSOR J. SULLY.&mdash;'Quite lately more than one serious attempt
+has been made to give childhood its due in fiction. A notable
+instance is Mr. Kenneth Grahame's pictures from child-life.'<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<h3><span class="u">PAGAN PAPERS</span></h3>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE ACADEMY.&mdash;'Rarely does one meet with an author whose wit
+is so apt, whose touches of sentiment are so genuine. His paper on
+tobacco is good reading, though one remembers Calverley and the
+Arcadian mixture; the eulogy on the loafer is second only to Mr.
+Stevenson's praise of "The Idler." There is too a distinct flavour of
+poetry in much of Mr. Grahame's works. One could have wished
+"White Poppies" had been written in verse, were not the prose of
+it so delicate and adequate.'</div>
+
+<div class='hang1'>THE DAILY CHRONICLE.&mdash;'Mr. Kenneth Grahame's accomplishment
+is astounding.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. His style is a delight, so high is its vitality,
+so cool its colours, so nimble and various its rhythms. He has read
+and assimilated Browne Burton. He has a pretty poetic fancy and
+is apt at a quaint analogy. Many forms of beauty&mdash;existent and
+non-existent&mdash;he loves with a deep and discriminating love.'</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p>
+<h2><span class="u">P.J. BILLINGHURST'S FABLE-BOOKS</span></h2>
+
+
+<h3>A HUNDRED FABLES OF &AElig;SOP</h3>
+
+<div class="hang1">With 101 full-page illustrations by PERCY J. BILLINGHURST,
+and a fifteen-page introduction including two new
+and original fables by KENNETH GRAHAME.</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>A HUNDRED FABLES OF LA FONTAINE</h3>
+
+<div class='unindent'>With 101 full-page illustrations by PERCY J. BILLINGHURST.</div>
+
+<div class="hang1">In <i>La Fontaine's Fables</i>, Mr. Billinghurst's delightful animals
+pose and strut and swagger in the same powerful and
+moral-mending manner that they did in his &AElig;sop.&mdash;KENNETH
+GRAHAME in <i>Daily Mail</i>.</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>A HUNDRED ANECDOTES OF ANIMALS</h3>
+
+<div class='unindent'>With 102 full-page illustrations by PERCY J. BILLINGHURST.</div>
+
+<div class="hang1">It is a treasure-house of natural history anecdotes, sumptuously
+illustrated in black and white, and serves both to
+arouse and stimulate interest in the subject in children of
+a knowledgeable age.</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/endpaper1.jpg" width="600" height="405" alt="Endpapers" title="" />
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+<p>Repeated chapter titles were removed. Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p>
+
+<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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