"All," shrilled the Dolphins. "Their boats can't upset, Lal, and the waters are transparent, and shallow enough for them to fish up coloured shells, coral, and mother-of-pearl. There's a sunken treasure-ship half buried in the sands far upon the other side, Lal, if they sail for it." "They'll all make for that safe enough," answered the Lion. "Push their boats off, Dolphins, and help them all to land upon the far shore." The Dolphins, splashing the water into little white frothy waves, accompanied the little bobbing fleet of pearl-boats, and sang gaily as they swam alongside. "Blue and gold on the summer sea, Each little mast with a sail of pearl, Each dipping boat holds a boy or girl, A most enchanting argosy. A ship one's longed for most perhaps That cannot anyhow collapse. We'll sail away to the golden strand, And maybe discover No Man's Land; Each one of us will get a peep Into the wonders of the deep, Dredging for shells of brilliant hue, And discovering mermaids too. Sing ho! for a galleon of Spanish gold, With jewels and ivory in the hold. What treasure we'll find upon the main! What triumph when we sail home again! The wonder of every lad and lass Will be the booty we amass." After a short but entrancing voyage, and even whilst Ridgwell and Christine stood with the other children waist-deep in the great carven hold of the sunken Spanish galleon, shovelling out golden doubloons and precious jewels, the sound of Lal's voice came across the water to them. "Autumn, ahoy!" shouted Lal. * * * * * "Isn't it bewildering, Chris?" lamented Ridgwell. "Only a second ago we were enthroned in a castle of golden coins and precious stones, and now, without any sort of warning whatever, we are standing upon the top of a waggon-load of newly-mown hay." "Yes, Ridgie, and look at Lal across there, laughing about it like anything." "He certainly does play tricks with us, Chris. See, he is sending all the children racing across to draw our hay-cart with those ropes of acorns and leaves they are holding. Hullo!" broke off Ridgwell, "somebody is throwing things at me, and if they continue doing it I shall jolly well start throwing back again." Christine looked up from the stack of loose hay surrounding her in the cart upon which they stood. "Why, it's apples," announced Christine. "Where?" inquired her brother. "Look, Ridgie, overhead, hundreds of them hanging from every tree. We can reach them quite easily." There could be no doubt about the matter. Rosy apples ripened by the sun dangled in clusters overhead, and gently fell down at the very moment when any one felt disposed to eat them. Within easy reach grew trailing brambles smothered with ripened patches of fragrant blackberries.