And day by day the world grew prettier and pleasanter to him. It had been very pleasant to be carried out in his nurse's arms or wheeled along in his little carriage, but when it came to toddling on the nice firm sands on his own sturdy legs, and sometimes—when nurse would let him—going "kite kite close" to the playful waves, and then jumping back again when they "pertended," as he said, to wet his little feet—ah, that was too delightful! And almost more delightful still was it to pick up nice smooth stones on the beach and try how far he could throw them into the sea. The sea was so pretty and kind, he thought. It was for a long time very difficult for him to believe that it could ever be angry and raging and wild, as he used to hear said, for of course on wet or stormy days little Ted never went down to the shore, but stayed at home in his own warm nursery.
There were pretty shells and stones and seaweed to be found on this delightful sea-shore. Ted was too little to care much for such quiet business as gathering stones and shells, but one day when he was walking with his mother she stopped so often to pick up and examine any that took her fancy, that at last Ted's curiosity was awakened.
"What is thoo doing?" he said gravely, as if not quite sure that his mother was behaving correctly, for nurse always told him to "walk on straight, there's a good boy, Master Ted," and it was a little puzzling to understand that mammas might do what little boys must not. It was one of the puzzles which Ted found there were a good many of in the world, and which he had to think over a good deal in his own mind before it grew clear to him. "What is thoo doing?" he asked.
"I am looking for pretty stones to take home and keep," replied his mother.
"Pitty 'tones," repeated Ted, and then he said no more, but some new ideas had wakened in his baby mind.
Nurse noticed that he was quieter than usual that afternoon, for already Ted was a good deal of a chatterbox. But his eyes looked bright, and plainly he had some pleasant thought in his head. The next day was fine, and he went off with nurse for his walk. He looked a little anxious as they got to the turn of the road, or rather to the joining of two roads, one of which led to the sea, the other into country lanes.
"Thoo is doing to the sea?" he inquired.
"Yes, dear," nurse replied, and Ted's face cleared. When they got to the shore he trotted on quietly, but his eyes were very busy, busier even than usual. They looked about them in all directions, till at last they spied what they wanted, and for half a minute or so nurse did not notice that her little charge had left her side and was lagging behind.
"What are you about, Master Ted?" she said hastily, as glancing round she saw him stooping down—not that he had very far to stoop, poor little man—and struggling to lift some object at his feet.
"A 'tone," he cried, "a beauty big 'tone for Ted's muzzer," lifting in his arms a big round stone—one of the kind that as children we used to say had dropped from the moon—which by its nice round shape and speckledness had caught his eye. "Ted will cally it hisself."