y to cross
the common, they lingered behind the others as much as they possibly
could and kept an eager look-out.

Unfortunately, Miss Grey never walked so fast as in that particular
spot, and was always urging them to quicken their pace, so that it was
possible to miss many valuable curiosities. Otherwise, with time before
them, and the aid of a spade and a pickaxe, Ambrose and David felt that
they could have unearthed treasures which would have filled their museum
easily. To-day they were so far behind that Miss Grey and their sisters
were almost out of sight. Ambrose had been giving David a little solid
information about the Romans, their wars, customs, and personal
appearance, when he was suddenly interrupted by his brother.

"I suppose," said David, "you forgot the museum when you told Pennie
you'd give your money every week?"

Ambrose did not want to be reminded of that promise, which he had
already begun to regret; besides, this question showed that David had
not been attending to the Romans.

"Why, of course," he said impatiently; "we sha'n't buy things for the
museum. We shall just find them by degrees."

"I don't believe we shall ever get enough things before the winter,"
replied David, with his eyes fixed on the short dry turf at his feet.
"Oh, look!" he exclaimed suddenly, "there's a funny snail."

Ambrose stooped to examine it. It was an empty white shell with curious
black stripes on it.

"It's a Roman snail," he said rising with a superior air. "You know
they used to eat them."

David stood with his short legs wide apart, his hands in his pockets,
his grave eyes fixed on the shell in his brother's hand.

"Did the Romans bring it?" he asked. "How very old it must be!"

"How stupid you are!" said Ambrose. "Of course I meant they brought
some like it, and then there got to be more and more snails--like Sir
Walter Raleigh and the potato."

"It'll do nicely for the museum, won't it?" said David, "and we'll write
a label for it with `_Roman snail, found near Rumborough Camp_.'" By
this time it was no longer possible to avoid seeing that Miss Grey was
waving her parasol in the far distance. Probably one of the girls would
be sent back to fetch them if they did not go at once, so with the snail
carefully secured they set off towards her at a quick trot.

"Don't you wish," jerked out Ambrose in short sentences as he ran, "that
father would bring us--with a spade--and dig--and find things?"