"Aha, you ran faster than I did," muttered Peter, "but I will get even with you all the same."
Pat felt his mood, and came sedately after him, his tail hanging limply close to his hind legs.
Peter waved his shining wand and said, "I want Lawrence ducked in the horse pond," and he set himself to laugh at the other boy when he should see him struggling in the pond.
Instantly there was a splash, but it was Peter who was floundering in the water, choking and coughing and making great ado because he couldn't swim.
The children all gathered around, and because each of them had some unpleasant memory of Peter, they laughed even while some of them tried to help him. He was a funny object, kicking and spluttering and clutching the water, with his hair in his eyes.
"Here, Peter, hang on," said Lawrence, and bracing himself by holding to a post, he offered his foot to Peter, who managed to get hold of it and pull himself to the edge where he could climb out.
"Here you, keep out of that pond," said a man coming near and speaking angrily. "Don't you know enough not to try to swim in there?"
Peter crept away, dripping, from the laughter of the children, and Pat followed him close.
"Foolish Peter. Foolish Peter," sang a voice again. This time there was no bird and he thought it sounded like Lily-bud's voice, it was so small and sweet.