orah stoutly. "Levick's a very nice man. Dan
and I often go to see him and his wife and baby."

"Well, Levick isn't the only policeman in the world," said Philip
teasingly. "I saw a very fat, red-faced old policeman in Borsham the
other day, and he had a little twinkle in his eye, which seemed to say:
'Where are the little boy and girl who have been breaking through the
Grange fence?'"

"Oh, Philip, don't be silly," said Mary, seeing that her little brother
was looking rather grave. "You know policemen wouldn't take up people
and put them in prison unless they were doing anything really wrong."

"But perhaps _some_ policemen would, Mary," said Dan. "Perhaps _all_
policemen are not nice, kind policemen like Levick, who live in dear
little white cottages like Levick's cottage, and have dear little
babies like Levick's baby, and lots of little pigs like Levick's pigs."

The other children burst out laughing.

"No, of course they are not all exactly like Levick," said Philip, who
was a little ashamed of himself for having frightened his little
brother; "but I was only joking when I said that about the policeman in
Borsham, Dan. What a little duffer you are!"

"Tell us about Jack the Giant-killer, then," said Dan coaxingly; and
Philip sat down good-naturedly and told his little brother and sister
story after story, until it was bedtime.

The next morning, when Philip went to the schoolroom to finish the
Latin translation which he meant to have done the evening before, he
found Ruth seated at the table with pen, ink and paper before her, and
a very blank look on her face.

"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise; for Ruth was a very lazy
little girl as a rule, and was seldom seen either reading, writing or
working.

"It's my holiday task," she said dismally. "I can't think of anything
to say."

"What have you got to write about?" asked Philip.

"Alfred the Great," said Ruth. "I know about him burning the cakes;
but I can't think of anything else, and Mary has half done hers. Miss
Long has offered a prize for the one who does it best."

"I wish old Jones would offer a prize for _my_ holiday task," said
Philip. "I can't get this stuff into my head!" and the boy turned to
his Latin with a sigh.

"It's because we've had holidays, I think," said Ruth. "My mind feels
quite empty, you know; and I think of all sorts of silly things instead
of my essay."

"Perhaps that is why we have holiday tasks," sai