what H. O. did when he went into the dairy. I do
not know what his motive was. But Mrs Pettigrew said SHE knew; and she
locked him in, and said if it was cream he wanted he should have enough,
and she wouldn't let him out till tea-time. The cat had also got into
the dairy for some reason of her own, and when H. O. was tired of
whatever he went in for he poured all the milk into the churn and tried
to teach the cat to swim in it. He must have been desperate. The cat did
not even try to learn, and H. O. had the scars on his hands for weeks.
I do not wish to tell tales of H. O., for he is very young, and whatever
he does he always catches it for; but I will just allude to our being
told not to eat the greengages in the garden. And we did not. And
whatever H. O. did was Noel's fault--for Noel told H. O. that greengages
would grow again all right if you did not bite as far as the stone, just
as wounds are not mortal except when you are pierced through the heart.
So the two of them bit bites out of every greengage they could reach.
And of course the pieces did not grow again.

Oswald did not do things like these, but then he is older than his
brothers. The only thing he did just about then was making a booby-trap
for Mrs Pettigrew when she had locked H. O. up in the dairy, and
unfortunately it was the day she was going out in her best things, and
part of the trap was a can of water. Oswald was not willingly vicious;
it was but a light and thoughtless act which he had every reason to
be sorry for afterwards. And he is sorry even without those reasons,
because he knows it is ungentlemanly to play tricks on women.

I remember Mother telling Dora and me when we were little that you ought
to be very kind and polite to servants, because they have to work very
hard, and do not have so many good times as we do. I used to think about
Mother more at the Moat House than I did at Blackheath, especially in
the garden. She was very fond of flowers, and she used to tell us about
the big garden where she used to live; and I remember Dora and I helped
her to plant seeds. But it is no use wishing. She would have liked that
garden, though.

The girls and the white mice did not do anything boldly wicked--though
of course they used to borrow Mrs Pettigrew's needles, which made her
very nasty. Needles that are borrowed might just as well be stolen. But
I say no more.

I have only told you these things to show the kind of events which
occurred