arry's old medal of the Duke of Wellington. The doctor
helped them to some stuff to partly efface the inscription, and all the
grown-ups were sold. I thought we might:

"You may break, you may shatter
The vase if you will;
But the scent of the Romans
Will cling round it still."

Denny sat down amid applause. It really was a great idea, at least for
_him_. It seemed to add just what was wanted to the visit of the
Maidstone Antiquities. To sell the Antiquities thoroughly would be
indeed splendiferous. Of course, Dora made haste to point out that we
had not got an old medal of the Duke of Wellington, and that we hadn't
any doctor who would "help us to stuff to efface," and etcetera; but we
sternly bade her stow it. We weren't going to do _exactly_ like those
_Daisy Chain_ kids.

The pottery was easy. We had made a lot of it by the stream--which was
the Nile when we discovered its source--and dried it in the sun, and
then baked it under a bonfire, like in _Foul Play_. And most of the
things were such queer shapes that they would have done for almost
anything--Roman or Greek, or even Egyptian or antediluvian, or household
milk-jugs of the cave-men, Albert's uncle said. The pots were,
fortunately, quite ready and dirty, because we had already buried them
in mixed sand and river mud to improve the color, and not remembered to
wash it off.

So the Council at once collected it all--and some rusty hinges and some
brass buttons and a file without a handle; and the girl Councillors
carried it all concealed in their pinafores, while the men members
carried digging tools. H. O. and Daisy were sent on ahead as scouts to
see if the coast was clear. We have learned the true usefulness of
scouts from reading about the Transvaal War. But all was still in the
hush of evening sunset on the Roman ruin.

We posted sentries, who were to lie on their stomachs on the walls and
give a long, low, signifying whistle if aught approached.

Then we dug a tunnel, like the one we once did after treasure, when we
happened to bury a boy. It took some time; but never shall it be said
that a Bastable grudged time or trouble when a lark was at stake. We put
the things in as naturally as we could, and shoved the dirt back, till
everything looked just as before. Then we went home, late for tea. But
it was in a good cause; and there was no hot toast, only
bread-and-butter, which does not get cold with waiting.

That night Alice whi