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though the mild weather is disgusting; but
when it storms as hard as it did in the autumn,
making the old elm-trees crash and swish so
that we can scarcely hear ourselves talk, then
it is not comfortable to play out-of-doors, I
assure vou. At such times we often shut
ourselves up in the little room over the wood-shed.
There is nothing up there hut a keg of red ochre
which we paint ourselves with, but really we
have lots of fun there, nevertheless.
Ezekiel always seizes the ehance to give a
leeture in the wood-shed, and his words gush
out like water from a fountain. When I get
tired of it, I sneak around behind him and give
him a little English punch in the back, for I am
verv elever at boxing, you must know. “ Come
on! Can you use your fists like an
English-man? ” And then I roll my hands round very
fast, just as I have seen the English sailors do,
and give him a quick punch in the stomach with
my fist.
Ezekiel squirms about like a worm, and
de-fends himself with his small weak fingers. The
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