o Forsyte can stand it for a minute."

Conscious that they did not know him to be under the table, little Jon
was visited by the quite new feeling of embarrassment, and stayed where
he was, ravaged by desire for the mushroom.

Such had been his first dip into the dark abysses of existence. Nothing
much had been revealed to him after that, till one day, having gone down
to the cow-house for his drink of milk fresh from the cow, after Garratt
had finished milking, he had seen Clover's calf, dead. Inconsolable,
and followed by an upset Garratt, he had sought "Da"; but suddenly
aware that she was not the person he wanted, had rushed away to find his
father, and had run into the arms of his mother.

"Clover's calf's dead! Oh! Oh! It looked so soft!"

His mother's clasp, and her:

"Yes, darling, there, there!" had stayed his sobbing. But if Clover's
calf could die, anything could--not only bees, flies, beetles and
chickens--and look soft like that! This was appalling--and soon
forgotten!

The next thing had been to sit on a bumble bee, a poignant experience,
which his mother had understood much better than "Da"; and nothing of
vital importance had happened after that till the year turned; when,
following a day of utter wretchedness, he had enjoyed a disease composed
of little spots, bed, honey in a spoon, and many Tangerine oranges.
It was then that the world had flowered. To "Auntie" June he owed that
flowering, for no sooner was he a little lame duck than she came rushing
down from London, bringing with her the books which had nurtured her
own Berserker spirit, born in the noted year of 1869. Aged, and of many
colours, they were stored with the most formidable happenings. Of
these she read to little Jon, till he was allowed to read to himself;
whereupon she whisked back to London and left them with him in a heap.
Those books cooked his fancy, till he thought and dreamed of nothing but
midshipmen and dhows, pirates, rafts, sandal-wood traders, iron horses,
sharks, battles, Tartars, Red Indians, balloons, North Poles and other
extravagant delights. The moment he was suffered to get up, he rigged
his bed fore and aft, and set out from it in a narrow bath across green
seas of carpet, to a rock, which he climbed by means of its mahogany
drawer knobs, to sweep the horizon with his drinking tumbler screwed to
his eye, in search of rescuing sails. He made a daily raft out of the
towel stand, the tea tray, and his pillows. He