[IV]
IN WHICH A YOUNG LADY IS LEFT UPON THE BANK
The sailor hat bobbed, merrily, down the stream, scorning each friendly brown boulder that would have stopped it, and dodging every drooping bough that would have held it back. For was not its legend of H. M. S. Daring, and must not the honour of Britain's navy be manfully maintained?
Tommy sat peacefully just above the bathing pool, munching his sandwiches, and letting the clear water trickle across his toes, very much contented with himself, and, consequently, with his environment also.
"Oh please—my hat," said a pathetic voice.
Tommy turned round, and on the path behind him stood the little girl, who had passed, a short while before.
She was quite breathless, and her hair was very tangled, as it crept about her cheeks, and hung over her brow.