rns and oast houses and stables, or things like that. And the other
way the garden lawn goes on till it comes to the churchyard. The
churchyard is not divided from the garden at all except by a little
grass bank. In the front of the house there is more garden, and the big
fruit garden is at the back.

The man the house belongs to likes new houses, so he built a big one
with conservatories and a stable with a clock in a turret on the top,
and he left the Moat House. And Albert's uncle took it, and my father
was to come down sometimes from Saturday to Monday, and Albert's uncle
was to live with us all the time, and he would be writing a book, and we
were not to bother him, but he would give an eye to us. I hope all this
is plain. I have said it as short as I can.

We got down rather late, but there was still light enough to see the
big bell hanging at the top of the house. The rope belonging to it went
right down the house, through our bedroom to the dining-room. H. O. saw
the rope and pulled it while he was washing his hands for supper, and
Dicky and I let him, and the bell tolled solemnly. Father shouted to him
not to, and we went down to supper.

But presently there were many feet trampling on the gravel, and Father
went out to see. When he came back he said--'The whole village, or half
of it, has come up to see why the bell rang. It's only rung for fire or
burglars. Why can't you kids let things alone?'

Albert's uncle said--

'Bed follows supper as the fruit follows the flower. They'll do no more
mischief to-night, sir. To-morrow I will point out a few of the things
to be avoided in this bucolic retreat.'

So it was bed directly after supper, and that was why we did not see
much that night.

But in the morning we were all up rather early, and we seemed to have
awakened in a new world rich in surprises beyond the dreams of anybody,
as it says in the quotation.

We went everywhere we could in the time, but when it was breakfast-time
we felt we had not seen half or a quarter. The room we had breakfast
in was exactly like in a story--black oak panels and china in corner
cupboards with glass doors. These doors were locked. There were green
curtains, and honeycomb for breakfast. After brekker my father went back
to town, and Albert's uncle went too, to see publishers. We saw them to
the station, and Father gave us a long list of what we weren't to do. It
began with 'Don't pull ropes unless you're quite sure what w