How a knight and a lady were sitting by the side of a river; and, on the lady expressing a desire to have some of the bright blue blossoms "to braid in her bonny brown hair," the gallant knight at once dashed in the stream to gratify her wishes. He secured a bunch of the flowers; but, on turning to regain the shore, the current overcame him; and, as the old song goes-- "Then the blossoms blue to the bank he threw, Ere he sunk in the eddying tide; And `Lady, I'm gone, thine own love true, Forget-me-not,' he cried. "The farewell pledge the lady caught; And hence, as legends say, The flower's a sign to awaken thoughts Of friends who are far away!" "How nice!" cried Nellie-- "How very nice!" "Not for the poor knight, though," said her aunt. "However, here, dearie, is another plant not quite so romantic, the old brown scabious, or `turf-weed.' It is a great favourite with bees, while its roots are supposed to have valuable medicinal properties, which the country people well know and estimate at their right worth. In some places they call it the `Devil's bit'!" "How funny!" interposed Nellie. "Why do they give it such a strange name?" "Yes, it is rather a strange title; but I read once somewhere that the story about it is, that the Spirit of Evil, envying the good which this herb might do to mankind, bit away part of it and thence came its name, `Devil's bit.'" "Really, auntie," said Nell. "Does it look as if it had been bitten?" "Yes, the root does," she replied. "But, come, dearie, we must get back now as fast as we can, or Captain Dresser and the boys will be there before us and eat up all the luncheon!" Without stopping to look at any more flowers or curious plants, they retraced their steps towards the dell, Nellie humming the last line of the song of the forget-me-not, which she was trying to learn by heart-- "Of friends who are far away! Of friends who are far away"--when, suddenly, they heard Rover's bark ringing through the woods, its echoes loud and resonant, like the sound of a deep-toned bell. "Come on, dearie," called out Mrs Gilmour, who was in advance, quickening her pace as she spoke, "come on quick, dearie! There's some one making off with our lunch; and, just think how hungry we are!" "Don't fear, auntie," said Nell reassuringly behind her; "Rover will not let any one touch it, you may be certain!" Nevertheless, she hurried after Mrs Gilmour; and both arrived together, well-nigh breathless, at the spot where they had left their feast so nicely laid out. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. A PICNIC UNDER DIFFICULTIES. They need not have been alarmed. Indeed, had she but given herself time for reflection, Nellie must have known this without any further assurance than the faithful Rover's bark, which would have been of quite a different tone had any stranger or suspicious person invaded the spot he was left to guard.