"There's a brook at that end of the field," he said, "with lots of fresh-water shrimps. I wonder whether they would boil red. But wait a bit. This hedge, you see, has a very high bank, and it is worn into ledges. I think we could play at 'shops' there - but wait a bit.”

"It is almost too good, Sandy dear," said I, as we crossed the field to the opposite hedge.

"The best is to come," said Sandy; "but I don't think I will tell you until to-morrow."

And to our distraction he sat down in the middle of the field, put his arms around his knees, and rocked himself backward and forward, his face brimming with satisfaction.

Neither Richard nor I would have been so mean as to explore on our own account when the field was Sandy's discovery, but we tried hard to persuade him to show us everything.

He had the most provoking way of laughing and not saying a word, and he did that now, besides slowly turning all his pockets inside out into his hands, and eating the crumbs and currants, saying, "Guess!" after every mouthful.

But when there was not a crumb left in his pockets, Sandy turned them back, and jumping up said: "One can tell a secret only once. It's a hollow oak. Come along!'

He ran and we ran to the other side of our field. I

had read of hollow oaks, and seen pictures of them, and once I dreamed of one with a witch inside, but we had never had one to play in. We were nearly wild with delight. It looked solid from the field, but when we pushed behind on the hedge side, there was the door, and I crept in. There could not be a more perfect castle, and although there were no windows in the sides, the light came in from the top, where the hoary polypody hung over like a fringe. Sandy was quite right. It was the very best thing in our field.

Perronet was as fond of the field as we were. What he liked was the little birds. At least, I don't know that he liked them, but they were what he chiefly attended to. I think he knew that it was our field, and thought he was our watch-dog. Whenever a bird lighted on one of the trees, he barked at it, then it flew away, and he ran, barking after it, until he lost sight of it. By that time another had lighted somewhere, and Perronet flew at him, and so on, all up and down the field. He never caught a bird, and never would let one alight if he saw it.

We had all kinds of games in our field. Shops for there were quantities of things to sell and sometimes I was a moss merchant, for there were ten different kinds of moss by the brook; sometimes I was a jeweller, and sold daisy chains, pebbles, coral sets made of holly berries, and oak-apple necklaces; sometimes I kept provisions,

like earth-nuts, mallow-cheeses, and mushrooms; sometimes I kept a flower shop, and sold nosegays, wreaths, and umbrellas made of rushes. I liked the flower shop best, because I am fond of arranging flowers, and I always make our birthday wreaths and bouquets. Sometimes I kept ever so many shops, and Richard and Sandy bought my wares, and paid for them with money made of elder pith, sliced into circles. The first shop I kept was to sell cowslips, and Richard and Sandy lived beside the brook, and were wine merchants, and made cowslip wine in a tin mug.

The elder tree was beautiful. In July the creamcolored flowers were so fragrant that we could hardly sit under it, and in the autumn it was covered with berries; but we were always a little disappointed that they never tasted in the least like elderberry syrup. Richard used to make flutes out of the stalks, and we could really play tunes on one of them, only it always made Perronet bark.

Richard's cap had a large hole in the top, and when we were in our field we always hung the cap on the taller of the two stileposts to show that we were there, just as the Queen has a flag hung on Windsor Castle when she is at home.

We played at castles and houses, and when we were tired of the houses we went to play by the brook and pretended we had gone to the seaside for a change of air. Sandy and I took off our shoes and stockings and washed

Perronet in the brook, and Richard sat on the bank and looked at us through a telescope; for when the elder stems cracked, and could not be made into flutes, he made them into telescopes.

Whatever we played at we were never disturbed. Birds, and cows, and men and horses ploughing in the distance, do not disturb one at all. We were very happy that summer; the boys were quite happy, and the only thing that troubled me was Perronet's tax money, for weeks went by and still we did not save it. Once we got as far as twopence halfpenny, and then one day Richard came to me and said, "I must have some more string for my kite. You might lend me a penny out of Perronet's tax money till I can get some money of my own."

So I gave Richard a penny; and the next day Sandy said, "You lent Dick one of Perronet's coppers; I'm sure Perronet would lend me one;" and then they said it was ridiculous to leave a halfpenny there by itself, so we spent it for cakes.

It worried me so much at last, that I began to dream horrible dreams about Perronet having to go away because we hadn't saved his tax money, and then I used to wake up and cry until my pillow was quite wet. The boys never seemed to care, so that I was quite surprised one day when I found Sandy alone in our field with Perronet in his arms, crying, and feeding him with cake; and I found he was crying about the taxes.

I cannot bear to see boys cry. I would much rather cry myself, and I begged Sandy to leave off, for I said I was determined to try to think of some way of earning the money.

It certainly was remarkable that the very next day should be the day when we first heard about the flower show and the prizes.

It was in school, and the schoolmaster rapped on his desk and said, "Silence, children!" Then he told us that at the agricultural fair, which was to be held in July, there was to be a flower show, and that an old gentleman was going to give prizes to the school children for the best arrangement of wild flowers. There were to be nosegays and wreaths, and there was to be a first prize of five shillings, and a second prize of half a crown, for the best collection of wild flowers with the names attached to them. "The English names," said the schoolmaster; "and there may be - - silence, children!-there may be collections of ferns, or grasses, or mosses to compete, too, for the gentleman wishes to encourage a taste for natural history."

Sandy was sitting next to me, and I squeezed his arm and whispered, "Five shillings!" and the schoolmaster said, "Silence, children!" and I thought I never should finish my lessons for that day because I could think of nothing but Perronet's tax money.

July is not at all a good month for wild flowers; May