few minutes he was
comfortably installed on a nice heap of dry grass, with Cheviott close
beside him and David near at hand.

"You never touch my tools again, Master Ted, for a bit; no, to be sure;
do you now?" said David.

"No," said Ted. "Muzzer says I mustn't. But wasn't the big scissors
nicely oilened, David?"

"Oh, fust rate--ay," said David. "Though I not say it is a cliver
smell--no. I not like the smell, Master Ted."

"Never mind," replied Ted reassuringly. "Ted will ask muzzer for some
cock-alone for thoo. Thoo can put some on the scissors."

"What's that, Master Ted?" inquired David, who was not at all above
getting information out of his little master.

"Cock-alone," repeated Ted. "Oh, it's somesing that smells very nice. I
don't know what it is. I thing it must be skeesed out of f'owers. I'll
run and get thoo some now, David, this minute," and he was on the point
of clambering to his feet when the stiff feeling of his bandaged leg
stopped him. "Oh, I forgot," he exclaimed regretfully.

"Yes indeed, Master Ted. You not walk a great deal to-day, to be
sure--no, indeed--for a bit; ay."

Ted lay still for a minute or two. He was gazing up at the sky, which
that afternoon was very pure and beautiful.

"Who paints the sky, David?" he said suddenly.

"Well indeed, Master Ted, I not think you ask me such a foolis'
question, Master Ted _bach_!" said David. "Who's make a sky and a sea
and everything so?"

"'Dod," said Ted. "Oh, I know that. But I thoughtened p'raps 'Dod
put somebody up there to paint it. It was _so_ pitty last night,
David--_all_ tolours--Ted tan't say zem all. Why isn't there many
tolours now, David?"

"I not know for sure," said David, stopping a moment in his work and
looking up at the sky.

"Ted _thought_," continued the little fellow slowly, "Ted _thought_
p'raps 'Dod's paints was getting done. Could that be why?"

David was rather matter-of-fact, and I don't know that that made him
any the worse a companion for Ted, whose brain was already quite full
enough of fancies. So he did not smile at Ted's idea, but answered quite
gravely,

"No indeed, Master Ted, I not think that untall."

"If on'y Ted could fly," the child continued in a minute or two, as just
then a flock of birds made their graceful way between his gazing eyes
and the clear blue vault above. "How pittily birds flies, don't they,
David? If Ted could fly he'd soon find out all about the sky and
everysing. And it