"Shall I," he asked, when my mother had left us to fetch something out of the kitchen, "shall I try it on your leg?" I don't believe I liked the idea; but too proud to go back on what I had stated, I allowed it at once. After that I felt a quick pain, and a few drops of blood showed on the white cloth whereon we sat. When I saw the blood, however, I began to cry, and my mother returned to the room. My brother was frightened too, but he laughed nevertheless, and asked me whether I did believe now that his knife was a real knife. After my mother had bandaged up my leg, she gave my brother a sound whipping with a birch that Father Christmas had left on the previous day for naughty children. Chapter II One day all our furniture was moved and put on a furniture-van. When everything had gone, my mother took my brother and myself to another house, where we recognized our furniture at once. As it had grown late, my mother gave us our supper and put us to bed. Next morning we were both frightfully busy. We examined the little courtyard, and found a brooklet flowing right through it. Then we discovered a narrow wooden plank leading over to the other side. For a few moments we dared not speak, but looked at each other with grave yet beaming eyes. At last my brother broke the silence, and spoke in a soft, awe-struck voice: "Shall we?" "I don't know." "Why shouldn't we?" "I am afraid." "Coward!" After these last words my brother looked round cautiously and, nobody being in sight, prepared to go over. Seeing his determination I summoned my vanishing courage and held on to his coat, a thing of which he graciously approved. The other side of the yard was certainly much prettier than the one we had just quitted. It is true that it was paved like the other side, but in a corner I discovered some flowers which I thought were the most wonderful flowers that I had ever seen. They grew on stalks, much taller than I was, and were of a colour that reminded me of cinnamon, as I had seen it in my father's shop. But the most wonderful part about them, and that I only found out afterwards, was that they closed themselves up in the evening, and opened again in the morning. That corner with the flowers now began to play a very important part in my life. Whilst my brother was busy over catching flies, or launching a paper boat into eternity, I sat amongst my flowers and never for a moment grew tired of looking at them. They did not, however, belong to us, but were the property of some other people who lived in the same house as we did. And that was the reason why my brother did not pluck them, as he would have done without doubt had they belonged to us.