ed-rooms than he was. Ambrose was ashamed, bitterly ashamed of
this failing, and he made up his mind a hundred times that he would get
over it, but that was in the broad daylight when the sun was shining.
As surely as night came, and he was asked perhaps to fetch something
from the schoolroom, those wretched feelings of fear came back, for the
schoolroom was at the end of a long dark passage.

Nancy, who was always good-natured, though she laughed at him, would
give him a nudge on such occasions if she were near him, and say:

"Never mind, _I'll_ go;" but Ambrose never accepted the offer. He went
with a shiver down his back, and a sort of distended feeling in his
ears, which seemed to be unnaturally on the alert for mysterious noises.

He always made up his mind before he got to the passage to check a wild
desire to run at full speed, and walk through it slowly, but this
resolve was never carried out.

Before he had gone two steps in the darkness there would be a sense of
something following close behind, and then all was over, and nothing to
be seen but a panic-stricken little boy rushing along with his hands
held over his ears. How foolish! you will say. Very foolish, indeed,
and so said all the other children, adding many a taunt and jeer.

But that did not do poor Ambrose any good, and he remained just as timid
as ever. Nevertheless there were moments of real danger when Ambrose
had been known to come gallantly to the front, and when he seemed to
change suddenly from a fearful, shrinking boy into a hero. Such was the
occasion when, alone of all the children, who stood shrieking on the
other side of the hedge, he had ventured back into the field to rescue
Dickie, who by some accident had been left behind among a herd of cows.
There she stood bewildered, holding up her little pinafore full of
daisies, helpless among those large horned monsters.

"Run, Dickie," shouted the children; but Dickie was rooted to the ground
with terror, and did not move.

Then Ambrose took his courage in both hands, and leaving the safe
shelter of the hedge, ran back to his little sister's side. As he
reached her a large black cow with crooked horns detached herself from
the herd, and walked quickly up to the children lashing her tail.
Ambrose did not stir. He stood in front of Dickie, took off his straw
hat and waved it in the cow's face. She stood still.

"Run back to the others, Dickie," said Ambrose quietly, and, Dickie's