with each a handful of reeds.

"The eels will go deeper into the mud," said Alfred sturdily. "Now
then, catch hold of my hands, and I'll pull you out."

The monk raised one hand very cautiously, and Alfred seized it tightly
and began to back, pulling with all his might; but he pulled in vain,
for he did not move his tutor an inch.

"Here, I know," cried Alfred. "You two come and join hands and pull."

"I'm afraid I'm too heavy," said Father Swythe.

"I shan't help," said Bald maliciously. "Let him stop where he is."

The monk groaned again, and the three boys outside the reeds laughed
with malicious glee.

"If we pull him out he'll only take us back and begin to teach us to
read."

"Yes, yes, yes," sighed Father Swythe; "I came to fetch you in. The
Queen sent me."

"Then we won't help you," said Bert; laughing. "Let's go and finish
getting our fish, and then go back. When they ask where he is we'll
tell them, and then some of the shepherds can come with wattle hurdles
and get him out."

"Oh, dear!" groaned the monk. "After all my teaching, for you boys to
be as bad as this! Why, if you leave me I shall be drowned!"

"Oh, no," said Red merrily. "You've only to keep holding your face up."

"Yes," said Bert; "and that will send your legs down till you'll be
standing up in the mud and water."

"And all the big flies and things will come and buzz about and settle on
your crown. Come along, Fred, and finish the dam."

"If we finish the dam," said Alfred seriously, "all the water will run
in here and make it deeper."

"Well, then he can swim out. You can swim, can't you?"

"No, no, no," said the monk sadly. "I never learned."

"What a pity!" said Red, laughing.

"You ought to have learned to swim instead of learning so much Latin,"
cried Bert.

"There isn't time to learn everything, my boys," said the monk sadly.
"I'm obliged to try and teach you all: the King and Queen sent for me
that I might. Please help me out."

"We're not going to," cried Bald. "Come along, boys. He ought to have
learned to swim."

Bald began to move away, and the monk groaned again.

"Come along, Fred," cried Bert, and the monk turned his head sidewise so
as to look piteously at the youngest boy.

"No, I'm not coming. I'm going to stop and help Father Swythe."

"Hah!" sighed the monk, and he squeezed Alfred's hand.

"No, you're not," cried Bald fiercely; "you're coming with us. Come
along. He will not s