lying leap, and taking the low wire-fence by the shrubbery twice over,
to the humiliation of my canine companion, who had to dip under where I
went over.

The conclusion of these performances brought me once again in front of
the school-room window, where my mother stood beckoning to me. She had
my straw hat with its sailor's blue ribbons in one hand, and a slice of
seed-cake in the other.

"Here, Willie," she said, "put on your hat, for the sun is hot although
there is a fresh breeze; and--but perhaps I may have been mistaken--I
thought perhaps some people of my acquaintance were fond of seed-cake
for luncheon."

"No indeed, dear mamma," I made answer speedily, "you are not at all
mistaken: some people--that is, Frisk and I--do like it very much; don't
we Frisk, old fellow?"

"And now," continued my mother,--who must certainly have forgotten at
the moment her opinion expressed just five minutes before as to the
propriety of kisses, for, smoothing back my hair, she stooped down to
press her lips upon my forehead before putting my hat on,--"and now you
are to take your troublesome self off for a long hour, indeed, almost an
hour and a half: away with you to your play."

"May I take my troublesome self to old George's, mamma?" I petitioned.

"If you like," she answered; "only be careful in going down the
Zig-zag; I don't want to find you a little heap of broken bones at the
bottom of the cliff."

I confess myself to being entirely incapable of conveying on paper to my
young readers the charms, the manifold delights, of that Zig-zag walk,
which was our shortest way down to the lodge.

You started from the garden, then through the shrubbery, and from the
shrubbery by a little wire gate you entered the natural wood which
clothed the upper part of our hill-side. The path descended rapidly from
this point, being very steep in parts, and emerging every here and there
so as to command an uninterrupted view of the beautiful Braycombe Bay,
which on this bright summer morning was all dancing and sparkling in the
sunshine. Lower down, the wood gave place to rock and turf, until you
reached the top of the shingle which the path skirted for a little
distance; and, finally, crossing an undulating meadow, you gained the
lodge, the abode of my friend old George, mentioned above.

It was not its picturesque beauty alone which endeared the Zig-zag walk
to me, although, child that I was, I feel sure the loveliness of the
outer wo