“Oh, shouldn’t I like that!” he cried. “I’ll practise climbing every day till the spring comes. I’d like to catch a pair of gulls for the Squire too. I heard him say once that he wanted some, to eat the snails in the kitchen garden. Can’t we find some, to-day, Queenie? Why must we wait till the spring?” “Phil says there are no young birds now; they’ve all got big and flown away. We must wait till some more are hatched—that will be in the spring. I’m glad you’re not afraid, Bertie. You shall come with us, and perhaps David too; but you mustn’t say anything to the rest. We want it to be a secret, and if they know they’ll tell everybody, or let it out by accident, and then”—she stopped suddenly and added, with a little laugh, “then it would all be spoiled, and they would get all the fun; but it’s Phil’s secret and mine, and you must promise not to tell anybody.” “Of course not,” answered Bertie, promptly; “I won’t say a word to anybody.” And then Phil came back, and led the way down to the sandy bay beneath by means of a steep narrow path not known to many save the fisher-people of that coast. The boat came in a little while after they had reached the shore, and the hampers of good things were landed; and a capital picnic they all had sitting on the smooth white sand beneath the shadow of the jagged cliffs. Uncle Fred was a capital companion for children, and was coaxed into telling stories of his adventures by land and sea, to which they all listened with undivided attention, although many of them had heard the best stories again and again. Time sped away “twice too fast,” as Phil declared, and it was time to go long before anybody wanted to move. Phil, however, had made good use of his time, and had found out from David a good deal about sea-gulls and their habits. The fisherman’s boy knew a great deal about the ways of the wild creatures of the coast, and could answer all Phil’s questions in a very satisfactory way. When the boat had started off, Phil turned to Queenie and said,— “We needn’t go for half an hour yet. I want to try my hand at climbing.” “So do I!” cried Bertie, eagerly; and Queenie told how Bertie had been let into the plan and had promised to keep the secret. “All right!” cried Phil; “I think Bertie’s safe enough. Now for a little practice.” The boys threw off their jackets and began climbing the craggy face of the cliff. It was hard work, and it cut their hands a little; but they found it quite possible, with pains and caution, to mount from one ledge to another, and also to descend again, though this was by no means so easy. Queenie watched them eagerly and approvingly, and was obliged to admit that Bertie was not at all nervous or timid in climbing, and was quite as clever and agile as Phil.