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y to cross the common, they lingered behind the others as much as they possibly could and kept an eager look-out. Unfortunately, Miss Grey never walked so fast as in that particular spot, and was always urging them to quicken their pace, so that it was possible to miss many valuable curiosities. Otherwise, with time before them, and the aid of a spade and a pickaxe, Ambrose and David felt that they could have unearthed treasures which would have filled their museum easily. To-day they were so far behind that Miss Grey and their sisters were almost out of sight. Ambrose had been giving David a little solid information about the Romans, their wars, customs, and personal appearance, when he was suddenly interrupted by his brother. "I suppose," said David, "you forgot the museum when you told Pennie you'd give your money every week?" Ambrose did not want to be reminded of that promise, which he had already begun to regret; besides, this question showed that David had not been attending to the Romans. "Why, of course," he said impatiently; "we sha'n't buy things for the museum. We shall just find them by degrees." "I don't believe we shall ever get enough things before the winter," replied David, with his eyes fixed on the short dry turf at his feet. "Oh, look!" he exclaimed suddenly, "there's a funny snail." Ambrose stooped to examine it. It was an empty white shell with curious black stripes on it. "It's a Roman snail," he said rising with a superior air. "You know they used to eat them." David stood with his short legs wide apart, his hands in his pockets, his grave eyes fixed on the shell in his brother's hand. "Did the Romans bring it?" he asked. "How very old it must be!" "How stupid you are!" said Ambrose. "Of course I meant they brought some like it, and then there got to be more and more snails--like Sir Walter Raleigh and the potato." "It'll do nicely for the museum, won't it?" said David, "and we'll write a label for it with `_Roman snail, found near Rumborough Camp_.'" By this time it was no longer possible to avoid seeing that Miss Grey was waving her parasol in the far distance. Probably one of the girls would be sent back to fetch them if they did not go at once, so with the snail carefully secured they set off towards her at a quick trot. "Don't you wish," jerked out Ambrose in short sentences as he ran, "that father would bring us--with a spade--and dig--and find things?"
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