nd looked around him.

Miss Macalister had forgotten to set him any task, but he supposed he
could set himself something.

He was just wondering what would be the least irksome form of punishment
he could devise, when a small head was pushed in at the door, and a
voice, in accents of extreme surprise, shouted his name.

"Why, Boris, what are you doing? They'll be off if you don't look
sharp."

"I'm not going, Nell," said Boris; "but please don't fuss over it, it's
nothing."

"_Nothing!_" said Nell, coming into the room and seating herself by the
side of her little brother. "Don't you love picnics?"

"I _adore_ them," said Boris.

He shut up his lips as he spoke and winked his eyes.

"Don't make a fuss," he said again after a pause. "Do you think I might
learn a bit of the 'Ancient Mariner' for my punishment task? I like that
old chap, he's so grisly."

"It's a splendid poem," said Nell with enthusiasm, "particularly that
part about--

_'Water, water everywhere,
And not a drop to drink.'_

Can't you picture it all, Boris? The sea like a great pond, and the
thirsty old mariner looking at it, and longing, and longing, and longing
to drink it, and the dead people lying round. Sometimes at night I think
of it, and then afterwards I have a good, big, startling dream. A dream
that's not _too_ frightful is almost as good as a story-book. Don't you
think so?"

"No, I don't," said Boris. "I hate dreams. Perhaps I'd better learn the
first six verses of the 'Ancient Mariner,' and perhaps I'd better begin
at once. Jane Macalister is very stern, isn't she, Nell?"

"Awful in lesson times," said Nell.

"Well, the only way I can bear it," said Boris, "is this--I think of her
as the general of an army. I don't mind obeying her when I think of her
in that way. Soldiers have to promise obedience before anything else,
and I'm going to be a soldier some day. I'd better not talk now, Nell,
for I must get the first six verses of the 'Ancient' into me in an hour,
and I can't if you keep chattering. The general was rather sharp with me
this morning, I must say, for all my conduct marks are gone, too, and I
won't get sixpence on Saturday, and I'll have nothing to subscribe to
mother's birthday present; still, of course, 'tis 'diculous to fuss.
You'd best go, Nell. Why aren't you ready for the picnic?"

"I'm not going," said Nell. "I have a headache, and a drive in the sun
would make it worse. Besides, Nan Thornton does