danger, and so he would drop to the grass,
roll on his back, and cock up his legs in ecstasy.

"Bees," said he to himself in amazement and despair, "do not go to
school."

Each bush and tree seemed, for the moment, to be inhabited by a bird
whose song was unfamiliar and the markings on whom he could not
remember to have seen before; and he had no time to stay and note them.
He dragged beyond these objects reluctantly, pondering on the
unreasonable savagery of parents who sent one to school when the sun
was shining.

But the greatest obstacle to getting to school was the river which
danced briskly through the fields. The footpath went for a stretch
along this stream, and, during that piece of the journey, haste was not
possible. There are so many things in a river to look at. The
movement of the water in itself exercises fascinations over a boy.
There are always bubbles, based strongly in froth, sailing gallantly
along.--One speculates how long a bubble will swim before it hits a
rock, or is washed into nothing by an eddy, or is becalmed in a
sheltered corner to ride at jaunty anchor with a navy of similar
delicate tonnage.

Further, if one finds a twig on the path, or a leaf, there is nothing
more natural than to throw these into the river and see how fast or how
erratically they sail. Pebbles also clamour to be cast into the
stream. Perhaps a dragon-fly whirls above the surface of the water to
hold one late from school. The grasses and rushes by the marge may
stir as a grey rat slips out to take to the water and swim low down and
very fast on some strange and important journey. The inspection of
such an event cannot be hurried. One must, if it is possible, discover
where he swims to, and if his hole is found it has to be blocked up
with stones, even though the persistent bell is clanging down over the
fields.

Perhaps a big frog will push out from the grass and go in fat leaps
down to the water--plop! and away he swims with his sarcastic nose up
and his legs going like fury. The strange, very-little-boy motions of
a frog in water is a thing to ponder over. There are small frogs also,
every bit as interesting, thin-legged, round-bellied anatomies who try
to jump two ways at once when they are observed, and are caught so
easily that it is scarcely worth one's trouble to chase them at all.

Just where the path turned there was an arch under which the river
flowed.--It was covered in with an iron grating. Surely it