on the sofa a whole pile of books that he was sorting, and
went out into the garden. On the top of the wall separating him from
the Orgreaves a row of damaged earthenware objects--jugs and jars
chiefly--at once caught his eye. He witnessed the smashing of one of
them, and then he ran to the wall, and taking a spring, rested on it
with his arms, his toes pushed into crevices. Young George, with hand
outstretched to throw, in the garden of the Orgreaves, seemed rather
diverted by this apparition.

"Hello!" said Edwin. "What are you up to?"

"I'm practising breaking crocks," said the child. That he had acquired
the local word gave Edwin pleasure.

"Yes, but do you know you're practising breaking my windows too? When
you aim too high you simply can't miss one of my windows."

George's face was troubled, as he examined the facts, which had hitherto
escaped his attention, that there was a whole world of consequences on
the other side of the wall, and that a missile which did not prove its
existence against either the wall or a crock had not necessarily ceased
to exist. Edwin watched the face with a new joy, as though looking at
some wonder of nature under a microscope. It seemed to him that he now
saw vividly why children were interesting.

"I can't see any windows from here," said George, in defence.

"If you climb up here you'll see them all right."

"Yes, but I can't climb up. I've tried to, a lot of times. Even when I
stood on my toes on this stump I could only just reach to put the crocks
on the top."

"What did you want to get on the wall for?"

"I wanted to see that swing of yours."

"Well," said Edwin, laughing, "if you could remember the swing why
couldn't you remember the windows?"

George shook his head at Edwin's stupidity, and looked at the ground.
"A swing isn't windows," he said. Then he glanced up with a diffident
smile: "I've often been wanting to come and see you."

Edwin was tremendously flattered. If he had made a conquest, the child
by this frank admission had made a greater.

"Then why didn't you come?"

"I couldn't, by myself. Besides, my back hasn't been well. Did they
tell you?"

George was so naturally serious that Edwin decided to be serious too.

"I did hear something about it," he replied, with the grave confidential
tone that he would have used to a man of his own age. This treatment
was evidently appreciated by George, and always afterwards Edwin
conversed wit