ble walks bordered by boxwood,
high like a hedge. For it had once been the garden of a monastery, and
the yews and the box were all that remained of what the good monks had
spent so much skill and labour upon.

There was an orchard also, with old gnarled, green-mossed trees, that
bore little fruit, but made a glory of shade in the dog-days. Up among
the branches Jiminy made a platform, like those Jaikie read to him about
in a book of Indian travel, where the hunters waited for tigers to come
underneath them. Ever since Jaikie became lame he lived at the manse,
and the minister let him read all sorts of queer books all day long, if
so he wished. As for Jiminy, he had been brought up among books, and
cared little about them; but Jaikie looked upon each one as a new gate
of Paradise.

"You never can tell," said Jaikie to Jiminy; "backs are deceivin',
likewise names. I've looked in ever so many books by the man that wrote
_Robinson Crusoe_, and there's not an island in any of them."

"Books are all stuff," said Jiminy. "Let's play 'Tiger.'"

"Well," replied Jaikie, "any way, it was out of a book I got 'Tiger.'"

So Jaikie mounted on the platform, and they began to play 'Tiger.' This
is how they played it. Jaikie had a bow and arrow, and he watched and
waited silently up among the green leaves till Jiminy came, crawling as
softly beneath as the tiger goes _pit-pat_ in his own jungles. Then
Jaikie drew the arrow to a head, and shot the tiger square on the back.
With a mighty howl the beast sprang in the air, as though to reach
Jaikie. But brave Jaikie only laughed, and in a moment the tiger fell on
his back, pulled up its trouser-legs, and expired. For that is the way
tigers always do. They cannot expire without pulling up their
trouser-legs. If you do not believe me, ask the man at the Zoo.

Now, as the former story tells, it was Jaikie who used always to do what
Jiminy bade him; but after Jaikie was hurt, helping Jiminy's father to
keep his church and manse, it was quite different. Jiminy used to come
to Jaikie and say, "What shall we do to-day?" And then he used to wheel
his friend in a little carriage the village joiner made, and afterwards
carry him among the orchard trees to the place he wanted to go.

"Jiminy," said Jaikie, "the flowers are bonnie in the plots, but they
are a' prisoners. Let us make a place where they can grow as they like."

Perhaps he thought of himself laid weak and lonely, when the green wor