"I wish to pwick 'em first time, and then, if they is naughty again, to have 'em shotted down dead. Why not? Mother, who is up in the heavens, called me after gweat Diana, and Diana always shotted her enemies." "Oh, dear me, Di! I think you are the queerest little thing in the world," said Apollo. "But now, look here," he added, "I am older than you, and I know that what you are thinking about is very wrong. I can't make you a bow and arrow to do that sort of thing." Diana looked bitterly disappointed. She could master, or she fancied she could master, Aunt Jane, Simpson, and Miss Ramsay, but she knew well, from past experience, that she could not master Apollo. "What is to be done?" she said. She thought for a long time. "Would not you like a bow and arrow just all your own, to shoot at the twees with?" she asked at last artfully. "Oh, I have no objection to that!" answered Apollo. "It seems right that I should have one; does it not, Di? But of course I would never do any mischief with it. Why, little thing, you have been talking the most awful rot." "Well, you can make a bow and arrow for your very own self," said Diana. "I don't see why I shouldn't, but you'll have to promise--" "Oh, I won't make pwomises!" said Diana. "Why should I make pwomises about your bow and arrows? I'll help you to make 'em. Do let me, Apollo!" Apollo seemed suddenly smitten with the idea. After all, it would be fine to make a bow and arrow, and to try to shoot things in the wood. How lovely it would be if he succeeded in shooting a rabbit; he would certainly have a try. Accordingly, he rose and climbed into the lower branches of an elm tree, and cut down a long, smooth young bough, and, descending again to the ground, began to peel the bark off. When this was done, Diana produced some more string out of her pocket, and a very creditable bow was the result. "Now, the arrow," said the little girl. "We must get some strong wood for that," said Apollo, "something that won't split. I'll just walk about and look around me." He did so, and soon found a stick suitable for his purpose. He sat down again and began whittling away. Very soon a fairly sharp arrow was the result. "Of course it ought to be tipped," said Apollo, "but we have nothing to tip it with. It is lucky that the wood is hard, and so it is really sharp. Now, shall I have a few shots with it?" "Please do, Apollo. Oh, how 'licious it all is! Don't you feel just as if you was a heathen god?" "I wish I were," said Apollo, throwing back his head. "Oh, Di, how hot it is in the wood! What wouldn't I give to be back in the dear old garden again?" "Maybe we'll go soon," said Diana; "maybe they won't want to keep us if--" But here she shut up her little mouth firmly. Apollo was too much excited about the bow and arrows to think of Diana's remarks. He stood up and began to practice shooting.