To “watch out” was one of the earliest lessons the puppies had to learn, and as it was taught partly in the cool house and partly on the road outside it afforded the children endless amusement. “Watching out” also included taking notice of every strange thing that was brought to the premises, as well as of things neither new nor strange, and thoroughly investigating them. As may be supposed many mishaps came of this habit, as when Jack, sniffing at a basket containing live lobsters which the fishmonger’s boy had left on the step while he carried a parcel to the kitchen, carelessly thrust his nose in too far and was seized by a sturdy lobster claw. There was a yelp of pain, and pup and lobster went whirling around the big apple tree. The entire household came to the rescue, and Jack retired to the cooling house wiser not only by the experience of a nipped nose, but a pinched tail as well. It was not the fault of his mother’s lessons--he simply had not put two and two together; in his eagerness to see what the lobster was doing he had entirely forgotten to “watch out” for danger. In the early morning, before the sun had crept around the apple tree, the twins usually sat on either side of the doorway to the burrow, with their mother lying on the grass near by. The two places were not equally good, as from one side the entire length of the path from the gate, as well as the garden and stables, could be seen at a glance, while from the other they could only see one way at a time without much neck twisting. [Illustration: _Toad Hunting._] Jill nearly always managed to secure the best place and if Jack happened to get there in advance of her she resorted to various tactics to dislodge him. First she would amble down the walk with an eager expression on her face, and give a bark or two as if at an intruder. If this did not bring Jack out, she would sniff at the ground and then begin to dig frantically, giving the most ludicrous growls the while. Jack’s curiosity usually overcame him at this point, for toad hunting was one of the twins’ favourite sports, and he was never tired of digging out a fat old patriarch with a spotted hide who lived under a stone by the pump, and making him hop-hop-hop until he refused to budge another step and flattened himself obstinately in the dirt, when he was allowed to go home and rest for the next day’s excursion, and, strange to say, the toad rather seemed to like the performance. If both these lures failed, Jill would resort to force by sitting squarely on top of her brother. Soon he would move a little in order to breathe more freely or stretch his legs. As soon as he stirred, Jill settled more heavily until she was wedged between her brother and the stone side of the burrow, then one determined push settled the matter, and he would roll over, look at her ruefully, stretch himself, and take the second best place.