“Yes; aren’t they lovely?—all along the river-bank. They put me in mind of the tiny sparks at the back of a wood fire.”
“A wood fire? What do you mean—a forest on fire?”
“No, no; at home, when you are burning logs of wood and the little sparks keep running here and there all over the back of the stove, just like fireworks at a distance.”
“Ah, yes, they do look something like that, just as if the leaves of the overhanging bushes all burst out into light.”
“Yes,” said Archie; “and when the soft breeze blows over them it seems to sweep them all out.”
“Good job, too,” said Captain Down. “We get heat enough in the sunshine without having the bushes and the water made hot by fire-flies.”
“It’s wonderful,” said Archie.
“Wonderfully hot.”
“No, no; I mean so strange that all those beetles, or whatever they are, should carry a light in their tails that they can show or put out just when they like, and that though it’s so brilliant it is quite cool.”
“Rather awkward for them if it was hot, in a climate like this. They look very pretty, though.”