endeavouring to make the child look up. "Well, never mind! Let us go and see what Eliza can find in the dairy for the boys' lunch. Ask Bernard Ayres whether he would like to come too."

Away we went, through the flower-scented hall, with its tessellated floor, and the air blowing freshly in through the open doors and windows, out to the dairy beyond.

What a delightful, sweet-smelling place a dairy is on a hot September day! with its refreshing coolness, its bright walls and clean floor, and the rows of shining pans laid out on the shelves, all full of rich, golden-hued milk and cream.

Evidently some one else thought so too, for, as Mary ran forward and opened the door, she uttered a startled scream, and a great tortoise-shell cat dashed wildly past us, and rushed out of sight in an instant.

"Oh dear, dear!" cried Mrs. Hughes. "There is that dreadful cat shut in there again. Whatever we shall do with her I can't think,-beating seems no use. This is the third time this week that she has managed to slip in and hide, is it not, Eliza ?"

"I believe it is, ma'am," sheepishly replied the servant. "But at any rate she can't have done no harm this time, for I haven't come out of there myself, not half a minute, scarcely." Fortunately for both Eliza and the cat, events proved such to have been the case.

In five minutes more, we were all four briskly running to and fro between house and lawn, bearing to the delighted boys great saucersful of curds and whey.

Jugs and tumblers were brought out next, and a plentiful supply of new milk provided to quench the thirst of so many parched throats.

But the bright eyes grew brighter, and opened wider, when Eliza finally appeared, carrying in either hand a large plate, piled high with slices of delicious sponge cake.

E

This was the sort of treatment to win the hearts of any schoolboys, and many were the exclamations of delighted approval which escaped between the mouthfuls.

"What a real old stunner she is!" exclaimed the Scamp, impulsively, as he helped himself to another big piece of cake; and so loudly was his flattering opinion expressed, that I looked up abashed, fearing lest the object of his admiration should have overheard.

From that moment my feelings completed the change which had been gradually taking place in my mind, and henceforth I regarded our kind hostess as the ideal of everything noble and good.

The sumptuous repast over, Mrs. Hughes prevailed upon Miss Royce to allow the boys to stay and play there, for an hour, instead of continuing their walk.

It was a fine old garden, with walks about in every direction, and many an old worm-eaten seat under the spreading branches, or encircling the twisted trunks, of some shady, thick-leaved

tree.

Soon we were in full swing, playing at "horses," with a couple of stage-coaches conveying passengers from inn to inn, or taking up the mails from the various post-offices. There were enough boys playing to-day to give the affair a regular "go," with the full staff of conductors, post-masters, innkeepers, &c., and our complement of passengers as well.

Willie Knowles drove the " express coach," for he had the Scamp and Jack Smedley for his leaders. So fast they went, that Mary Hughes and I—now become firm friends—having taken tickets by it, from the yew-tree down to the arbour, had the greatest difficulty in keeping pace with them.

The braid reins forming the passengers' quarters dragged us bodily forward, as we leant our backs against them, but, by the time we pulled up at Willie Robson's post-office, we were both so exhausted that we were obliged to get out and rest,

until the slow coach should come up, and take us on to our destination.

This was at present making the return journey, along the path opposite, so we had plenty of time to sit and talk to Mr. Postmaster Robson.

He was busily engaged in punching holes in the laurel leaves, which always did duty as letters. So often had we played this game lately, that we had adopted a regular system of postmarks, formed by certain combinations of round holes.

These were usually punched through with the end of a metal pen-holder, or any similar instrument sharp enough to cut out a clean circle from the leaf.

Mary was greatly interested in the process, and Willie was carefully showing her how to drill the holes for his particular patterns, when the whistle was heard, announcing the approach of the second coach.

There were only two horses to this-Rogers and Bob North. Harry Morland got out at this spot, and Willie Robson, having delivered his mails and received those from the yewtree office, where Mat Davis presided, placed us in our "seats," and away we went.

"Let's give these two youngsters a jolly good spin down the hill!" cried Rogers, starting off immediately at full speed.

Away we raced, faster and faster down the sloping path.

At first we laughed merrily, and thought it great fun, until Mary presently began crying out that she couldn't run any further.

Johnnie Harris blew his whistle directly-the signal for the horses to pull up-but evidently Rogers had no intention of complying with any such orders.

We tugged hard at the reins, already strained tight from the rate at which we were going, and implored them earnestly to stop.

"Oh-please-stop-stop!" gasped Mary, "I-can't-go

-any-"

But she was too breathless to finish even the last words of her sentence, and in her agony she began to cry.

"They shouldn't play if they can't run-the little babies!" shouted Rogers, back to Johnnie Harris.

The reins strained tighter round our waists, dragging us on against our will.

Suddenly, as the horses whisked round a corner, a sharp snap was heard, and in a moment Mary went sprawling headlong into a hedge of rosebushes, I following, and falling right on top of her.

Rogers ran on, with a chuckling laugh, but Bob North, finding that we both set up a vigorous howling, came back, and assisted Johnnie Harris to extricate us from our trying position.

"It was too bad of you!" cried Johnnie, indignantly; “I kept on shouting and whistling for you to stop. I can't see what fun there is in running youngsters like these off their legs."

But Bob North was genuinely sorry, when he saw the result of his thoughtlessness, for, as Miss Royce raised Mary from her thorny bed, her little hands were torn and bleeding from many a bad wound.

Fortunately for myself, I escaped with only a few slight scratches, which, though smarting and painful, were not very

severe.

We must have presented a more pitiable than pretty appearance, as we were led quickly away to be bathed and doctored.

Of course the noise had brought every one running to the spot to ascertain its meaning, and many were the openlyexpressed comments upon the ill-fated cause of the disaster. "What a great stupid that Rogers is!"

"It was all his fault!"

"Just like him! He always spoils all our fun!" "I vote we send him to Coventry!"

And then, above the indignant voices, I heard Miss Royce giving the order to stop the game, and start for home at

once.

Five minutes after, as I sat by the open window, bathing my face in warm water, I saw them all file through the gate, and noticed that Rogers and Bob North were obliged to walk together in the rear.

Willie Knowles turned, as he caught sight of me, and waved his hand, with a smiling nod, and pleasant "Goodbye, youngster! you'll be all right again directly."

Dear old boy! How my heart misgave me as I heard his cheering voice, and, for the third or fourth time, I reproached myself for not having included him amongst the number of my greatest chums.

But then, whom could I have left out? Certainly not Harry, or Mat; and then the Scamp? Well, he was so jolly and good-natured, and had always been so kind to me, that if he had not been one of the party I should have been quite disconsolate.

So there was no help for it, and after all, he bore me no ill will for not having asked for him to be invited; so, with a little troubled sigh, I lowered my head into the basin again, and recommenced the sponging operation.

After dinner, Mary and I were sufficiently recovered to go into the garden and play with the others.

The Scamp proposed that we should play "hide and seek," Mary being "jack-of-both-sides," and always going with the hiding party.

Accordingly we set off for the arbour, which was to be our "den," the Scamp, of course, heading the rush.

Turning the corner of a bank, which divided the lawn from the upper garden, he suddenly came to a dead halt, exclaiming,