al word for it--a batch of dough
was set before a fire to rise. It had a clean cloth spread over it, and
the dough had been slashed across and across with a knife. Somebody said
the sign of the cross was made to keep the devil out of the bread. There
was a vague wonder at that, but it soon died. A portion of the dough
was used to make what were called 'rough-and-ready cakes.' Dripping was
rolled into the dough, and it was sprinkled with sugar and currants.
Then it was pulled into all manner of rough shapes, so as to bake with
crisp edges, and was put on a greased dripping-pan into an oven. The
cakes were served hot with new milk, and made a regal feast.

It grew dark, which for summer-time was a new experience. The child,
tired, but wakeful, stood at the door in fear of the dog. Suddenly he
roused the household with screams of joy.

'Mother! mother! Look what I've found!'

There was a rush and a swirl of petticoats. The infant had seen the
stars for the first time, and had some trouble in explaining the nature
of his find. When it was known that he had discovered the solar system
and its neighbouring fragment of the universe, there was a laugh, and he
was left alone, humiliated.

'I have made many equally valuable and original discoveries since then,'
said Paul Armstrong, and so went on staring down the canon, seeing
nothing of what lay before him, but beholding his child-self so clearly
that he seemed to be living over again the life of forty years ago.

The child was shy, dreamy, sensitive, inventive, and a liar. He and
his brother Dick were together walking in the shabby High Street, and
talking about cricket.

'I'll bet you haven't seen what I've seen,' said Paul. He was seven
years old by now, breeched in corduroys, which had had time to grow
rusty. The middle-aged man, sitting at his tent-door, smelt the odour of
the new cords, and heard their disgusting whistle as he moved his
limbs in them for the first time. Only the poorest boys went clothed in
corduroy, and Paul and brother Dick were bitterly lowered in their own
esteem when they were forced by motherly economy into that badge of
social servitude. 'I'll bet you haven't seen what I've seen.'

'What have you seen? asked Dick.

He was rather a fatuous boy, with round, innocent eyes, easily opening
at tales of marvel, and a temptation to a liar.

'Why, when I was in Scotland three years ago with father,' Paul began,
'I saw the Highlanders play cricket.'