'_Never?_' said Kenneth 'Then ... oh! good-bye!' he cried desperately, and snapped at the worm. A sharp pain ran through his head and he felt himself drawn up into the air, that stifling, choking, husky, thick stuff in which fish cannot breathe. And as he swung in the air the dreadful thought came to him, 'Suppose I don't turn into a boy again? Suppose I keep being a fish?' And then he wished he hadn't. But it was too late to wish that. Everything grew quite dark, only inside his head there seemed to be a light. There was a wild, rushing, buzzing noise, then something in his head seemed to break and he knew no more. * * * * * When presently he knew things again, he was lying on something hard. Was he Kenneth Fish lying on a stone at the bottom of the moat, or Kenneth Boy lying somewhere out of the water? His breathing was all right, so he wasn't a fish out of water or a boy under it. 'He's coming to,' said a voice. The Carp's he thought it was. But next moment he knew it to be the voice of his aunt, and he moved his hand and felt grass in it. He opened his eyes and saw above him the soft gray of the evening sky with a star or two. 'Here's the ring, Aunt,' he said. * * * * * [Illustration: 'Oh, good-bye!' he cried desperately, and snapped at the worm.] The cook had heard a splash and had run out just as the picnic party arrived at the front door. They had all rushed to the moat, and the uncle had pulled Kenneth out with the boat-hook. He had not been in the water more than three minutes, they said. But Kenneth knew better. They carried him in, very wet he was, and laid him on the breakfast-room sofa, where the aunt with hurried thoughtfulness had spread out the uncle's mackintosh. 'Get some rough towels, Jane,' said the aunt. 'Make haste, do.' 'I got the ring,' said Kenneth. 'Never mind about the ring, dear,' said the aunt, taking his boots off. 'But you said I was a thief and a liar,' Kenneth said feebly, 'and it was in the moat all the time.' '_Mother!_' it was Alison who shrieked. 'You didn't say that to him?' 'Of course I didn't,' said the aunt impatiently. She thought she hadn't, but then Kenneth thought she had. 'It was _me_ took the ring,' said Alison, 'and I dropped it. I didn't say I hadn't. I only said I'd rather not say. Oh Mother! poor Kenneth!' The aunt, without a word, carried Kenneth up to the bath-room and turned on the hot-water tap. The uncle and Ethel followed. 'Why didn't you own up, you sneak?' said Conrad to his sister with withering scorn. 'Sneak,' echoed the stout George. 'I meant to. I was only getting steam up,' sobbed Alison. 'I didn't know. Mother only told us she wasn't pleased with Ken, and so he wasn't to go to the picnic. Oh! what shall I do? What shall I do?' 'Sneak!' said her brothers in chorus, and left her to her tears of shame and remorse.