d Hamlet and dragging him out by his hind-legs, knelt there in
the dust and suffered himself to be licked until his face was as though
a snail had crossed over it.

The thunder passed. Blue pushed up into the grey. A cool air blew
through the world.

Nevertheless, deep in his heart, the terror remained. In that moment he
had met God face to face; he had delivered his first challenge.

P.S.--To the incredulous and cynical of heart authoritative evidence can
be shown to prove that it was on the evening of that Sunday that Mrs.
Cole turned the corner towards recovery.

CHAPTER VIII. TO COW FARM!

I

This next episode in Jeremy's year has, be it thoroughly understood, no
plot nor climax to it--it is simply the chronicle of an Odyssey. Nor
can it be said to have been anything but a very ordinary Odyssey to the
outside observer who, if he be a parent, will tell you that going to the
seaside with the family is the most bothering thing in the world, and
if he is a bachelor or old maid will tell you that being in the same
carriage with other people's children who are going to the sea is an
abominable business and the Law ought to have something to say to it.

All through May, June and July Mrs. Cole slowly pulled back to something
like her natural health. The new infant, Barbara by name, was as strong
as a pony, and kicked and screamed and roared so that the house was
quite a new place. Her arrival had done a great deal for Helen, whose
gaze had hitherto been concentrated entirely upon herself; now she
suddenly discovered a new element in life, and it was found that she
was "ideal with a baby" and "a great help to nurse." This made her more
human, and Barbara, realising as babies always do who understands and
who does not, would behave with Helen when she would behave with no one
else. Mary could not be expected to transfer her allegiance from Jeremy,
and then Barbara was frightened at her spectacles; Jeremy, having
Hamlet, did not need a baby!

There came a fine hot morning towards the end of July when Miss Jones
said, suddenly, in the middle of the history lesson: "Saturday week
we go to Rafiel." Jeremy choked, kicked Mary under the table, and was
generally impossible during the rest of the morning. It was Miss Jones's
fault; she should have chosen her occasion more carefully. Before the
evening Jeremy was standing in the corner for drawing on his bedroom
wall-paper enormous figures in the blackest of black