ver to do with story-telling--I mean
_untruth_-telling, for it is better not to call untruths "stories," is
it not? The world and the people in it, and the things they see and
hear, are all new and strange to the little creatures so lately started
on their puzzling journey. What wonder that real and fancy are mixed up
together sometimes--that it is difficult to understand that the pretty
blue-bells do not sometimes tinkle in the moonlight, or that there are
no longer bears in the woods or fairies hidden among the grass? Perhaps
it would be better for us if we were _more_ ready to believe even such
passed-by fancies, than to be so quick as we sometimes are to accuse
others of wishing to deceive.

Ted looked at nurse thoughtfully.

"P'raps it did," he said. "P'raps it might have comed down again after
Ted was a'leep."

"I daresay it caught in a tree or something of that kind," said nurse,
as she finished brushing Ted's soft curls and lifted him off the chair
on which he had been standing, just as Percy put his head in at the door
to ask if Ted might have a run in the garden with him before breakfast.

"They're not down yet," said Percy, nodding his bright curly head in
the direction of Ted's father's and mother's room; "they're not ready.
Nurse, do let Ted come out with me for a bit before breakfast," and Ted
trotted off, his hand in Percy's, in utmost content.

Was there ever so clever and kind and wonderful a big boy as Percy
before? Was there ever one who knew so much about _everything_--cricket
and croquet and football; skating and fishing and climbing trees--things
on earth and things in water--what was there he didn't know? These
were the thoughts that were busy in Ted's little brain as he followed
kind Percy about the garden, that bright summer morning, chattering
incessantly, and yet ready enough to be silent when Percy took it
into his head to relate to his tiny adorer some of his school
experiences.

"Ted will go to school some day, Percy," he said half questioningly.

"Of course you will. I hope you'll come to my school if I've not left
by then. I could look after you, you know, and see that they didn't
bully you."

"What's 'bully'?" asked Ted.

"Oh, teasing, you know. Setting you down because you're a little chap,
and all that. Knocking you about if you don't look sharp. All those
kinds of things that big fellows do to small ones."

Ted opened his eyes. It was not very clear to him what Percy meant