bullrushes, and three small willow trees. On this pond, after his father and Garratt had ascertained by sounding that it hada reliable bottom and was nowhere more than two feet deep, he was allowed a little collapsible canoe, in which he spenthours and hours paddling, and lying down out of sight of Indian Joe and other enemies. On the shore of the pond, too, hebuilt himself a wigwam about four feet square, of old biscuit tins, roofed in by boughs. In this he would make little fires,and cook the birds he had not shot with his gun, hunting in the coppice and fields, or the fish he did not catch in the pondbecause there were none. This occupied the rest of June and that July, when his father and mother were away in Ireland. Heled a lonely life of “make believe” during those five weeks of summer weather, with gun, wigwam, water and canoe; and,however hard his active little brain tried to keep the sense of beauty away, she did creep in on him for a second now andthen, perching on the wing of a dragon-fly, glistening on the water lilies, or brushing his eyes with her blue as he Jay onhis back in ambush.

“Auntie” June, who had been left in charge, had a “grown-up” in the house, with a cough and a large piece of putty whichhe was making into a face; so she hardly ever came down to see him in the pond. Once, however, she brought with her twoother “grown-ups.” Little Jon, who happened to have painted his naked self bright blue and yellow in stripes out of hisfather’s water-colour box, and put some duck’s feathers in his hair, saw them coming, and — ambushed himself among thewillows. As he had foreseen, they came at once to his wigwam and knelt down to look inside, so that with a blood-curdlingyell he was able to take the scalps of “Auntie” June and the woman “grown-up” in an almost complete manner before theykissed him. The names of the two grown-ups were “Auntie” Holly and “Uncle” Val, who had a brown face and a little limp, and