gon-fly came sailing along the moist lane
to pause in the sunny openings, and poise itself in the clear air where
its wings vibrated so rapidly that they looked like a patch of clear
gauze.

Vane's thoughts were back in an instant to the problem that has puzzled
so many minds; and as he watched the dragon-fly, a couple of swallows
skimmed by him, darted over the wall, and were gone. Then, flopping
idly along in its clumsy flight, came a white butterfly, and directly
after a bee--one of the great, dark, golden-banded fellows, with a soft,
velvety coat.

"And all fly in a different way," said Vane to himself, thoughtfully.
"They all use wings, but all differently; and they have so much command
over them, darting here and there, just as they please. I wonder
whether I could make a pair of wings and a machine to work them. It
doesn't seem impossible. People float up in balloons, but that isn't
enough. I think I could do it, and--oh, hang it, there goes ten, and
the rector will be waiting. I wonder whether I can recollect all he
said about those Greek verbs."

CHAPTER THREE.

IN THE STUDY.

Vane reached the rectory gate and turned in with his brains in the air,
dashing here and there like a dragon-fly, skimming after the fashion of
a swallow, flying steadily, bumble-bee-fashion, and flopping faintly as
the butterfly did whose wings were so much out of proportion to the size
of its body. Either way would do, he thought, or better still, if he
could fly by a wide-spread membrane stretched upon steel or whalebone
ribs or fingers like a bat. Why not? he mused. There could be no
reason; and he was beginning to wonder why he had never thought of
making some flying machine before, when he was brought back to earth
from his imaginary soarings by a voice saying,--

"Hullo! here's old Weathercock!" and this was followed by a laugh which
brought the colour into his cheeks.

"I don't care," he thought. "Let him laugh. Better be a weathercock
and change about, than be always sticking fast. Uncle says we can't
help learning something for one's trouble."

By this time he was at the porch, which he entered just as the footman
was carrying out the breakfast things.

"Rector isn't in the study then, Joseph?" said Vane.

"No, sir; just coming in out of the garden. Young gents is in there
together."

Vane felt disposed to wait and go in with the rector, but, feeling that
it would be cowardly, he walked straight i