t one side of the canal to the other. Just then a
bird flew over the boat, swiftly as an arrow. Arthur raised his head to
follow its flight. When it had passed he looked at me.

"I can't learn this," he said, "and yet I want to."

I went over to him.

"It is not very difficult," I said.

"Yes, it is, it's awfully difficult."

"It seems to me quite easy. I was listening while your mother read it,
and I almost learned it myself."

He smiled as though he did not believe it.

"Do you want me to say it to you?"

"You can't."

"Shall I try? You take the book."

He took up the book again, and I began to recite the verse. I had it
almost perfect.

"What! you know it?"

"Not quite, but next time I could say it without a mistake, I believe."

"How did you learn it?"

"I listened while your mother read it, but I listened attentively
without looking about to see what was going on round about me."

He reddened, and turned away his eyes.

"I will try, like you," he said, "but tell me, what did you do to
remember the words?"

I did not quite know how to explain, but I tried my best.

"What is the fable about?" I said. "Sheep. Well, first of all, I thought
of sheep; the sheep were in a field. I could see them lying down and
sleeping in the field; picturing them so, I did not forget."

"Yes, yes," he said, "I can see them, black and white ones! in a green
field."

"What looks after the sheep usually?"

"Dogs."

"And?..."

"A shepherd."

"If they thought the sheep were quite safe, what did they do?"

"The dog slept while the shepherd played his flute in the distance with
the other shepherds."

Little by little Arthur had the entire fable pictured in his mind's eye.
I explained every detail, as well as I was able. When he was thoroughly
interested we went over the lines together and at the end of half an
hour he had mastered it.

"Oh, how pleased mamma will be!" he cried.

When his mother came out she seemed displeased that we were together.
She thought that we had been playing, but Arthur did not give her time
to say a word.

"I know it!" he cried. "Remi has taught it to me."

Mrs. Milligan looked at me in surprise, but before she could say a word
Arthur had commenced to recite the fable. I looked at Mrs. Milligan: her
beautiful face broke into a smile; then I thought I saw tears in her
eyes, but she bent her head quickly over her son and put her arms about
him. I was not sure if she was crying.