before them. Some of the pleasantest holidays that we have
enjoyed together have been spent away in the heart of the bush where
Nature runs riot and revels in undisturbed profusion. It is delightful
to see them come traipsing along the track through the bush, their
faces flushed with the excitement of their foray, and their arms filled
with the booty they have gathered. They are tired, evidently, but not
too tired to run when they catch sight of us. 'Look at this!' cries
one; and 'Isn't that a pretty colour?' asks the other. 'Did you ever
see one that shape before?' 'Fancy finding one of these!' And so on.
And then the evening is spent in pressing and classifying the treasures
they have gathered.

One day they came back, earlier than usual, and showed us their
discoveries.

'But, oh, father, it was an awful shame! You know that kind that Ella
Simpson showed us once, and told us they were very rare? Well, we
found one of those, a real beauty, away over in that valley beyond the
sandhills; and on the way home we lost it. Wasn't it a pity?'

'Do you mean the little pale blue one, with the orange fringe?' I
inquired.

'Yes, and it was just in full flower, and ready for picking.'

'It was a pity,' I confessed, 'for, do you know I specially want one of
those. Do you think you could go back and try hard to find one?'

They agreed. I advised them to search with the greatest care, and to
poke into places that they had not disturbed before. They returned an
hour later with no further specimen of the blue and orange variety,
although on a subsequent date they succeeded in unearthing one, but
they were rejoicing over a number of very rare specimens that are now
considered among the most valuable in their collection.

In _It is Never Too Late to Mend_, Charles Reade has a story that is
right into our hands just here. 'Once upon a time,' he makes one of
his characters say, 'once upon a time there was an old chap who had
heard about treasure being found in odd places, a pot full of guineas
or something; and it took root in his heart. One morning he comes down
and says to his wife, "It is all right, old woman; I've found the
treasure!" "No, have you, though?" says she. "Yes," says he;
"leastways, it is as good as found; it is only waiting till I've had my
breakfast, and then I'll go out and fetch it in!" "La, John, but how
did you find it!" "It was revealed to me in a dream," says John, as
grave as a judge;