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There
were
always
two
nurses
with
her
,
or
else
one
mother
and
one
nurse
,
and
for
a
long
time
she
was
a
pattern-child
who
always
coughed
off
the
table
and
said
,
'
How
do
you
do
?
'
to
the
other
Figs
,
and
the
only
game
she
played
at
was
flinging
a
ball
gracefully
and
letting
the
nurse
bring
it
back
to
her
.
Then
one
day
she
tired
of
it
all
and
went
mad-dog
,
and
,
first
,
to
show
that
she
really
was
mad-dog
,
she
unloosened
both
her
boot-laces
and
put
out
her
tongue
east
,
west
,
north
,
and
south
.
She
then
flung
her
sash
into
a
puddle
and
danced
on
it
till
dirty
water
was
squirted
over
her
frock
,
after
which
she
climbed
the
fence
and
had
a
series
of
incredible
adventures
,
one
of
the
least
of
which
was
that
she
kicked
off
both
her
boots
.
At
last
she
came
to
the
gate
that
is
now
called
after
her
,
out
of
which
she
ran
into
streets
David
and
I
have
never
been
in
though
we
have
heard
them
roaring
,
and
still
she
ran
on
and
would
never
again
have
been
heard
of
had
not
her
mother
jumped
into
a
'
bus
and
thus
overtaken
her
.
It
all
happened
,
I
should
say
,
long
ago
,
and
this
is
not
the
Mabel
Grey
whom
David
knows
.
Returning
up
the
Broad
Walk
we
have
on
our
right
the
Baby
Walk
,
which
is
so
full
of
perambulators
that
you
could
cross
from
side
to
side
stepping
on
babies
,
but
the
nurses
wo
n't
let
you
do
it
.
From
this
walk
a
passage
called
Bunting
's
Thumb
,
because
it
is
that
length
,
leads
into
Picnic
Street
,
where
there
are
real
kettles
,
and
chestnut-blossom
falls
into
your
mug
as
you
are
drinking
.
Quite
common
children
picnic
here
also
,
and
the
blossom
falls
into
their
mugs
just
the
same
.
Next
comes
St.
Govor
's
Well
,
which
was
full
of
water
when
Malcolm
the
Bold
fell
into
it
.
He
was
his
mother
's
favourite
,
and
he
let
her
put
her
arm
round
his
neck
in
public
because
she
was
a
widow
;
but
he
was
also
partial
to
adventures
,
and
liked
to
play
with
a
chimney-sweep
who
had
killed
a
good
many
bears
.
The
sweep
's
name
was
Sooty
,
and
one
day
,
when
they
were
playing
near
the
well
,
Malcolm
fell
in
and
would
have
been
drowned
had
not
Sooty
dived
in
and
rescued
him
;
and
the
water
had
washed
Sooty
clean
,
and
he
now
stood
revealed
as
Malcolm
's
long-lost
father
.
So
Malcolm
would
not
let
his
mother
put
her
arm
round
his
neck
any
more
.
Between
the
well
and
the
Round
Pond
are
the
cricket
pitches
,
and
frequently
the
choosing
of
sides
exhausts
so
much
time
that
there
is
scarcely
any
cricket
.
Everybody
wants
to
bat
first
,
and
as
soon
as
he
is
out
he
bowls
unless
you
are
the
better
wrestler
,
and
while
you
are
wrestling
with
him
the
fielders
have
scattered
to
play
at
something
else
.
The
Gardens
are
noted
for
two
kinds
of
cricket
:
boy
cricket
,
which
is
real
cricket
with
a
bat
,
and
girl
cricket
,
which
is
with
a
racquet
and
the
governess
.
Girls
ca
n't
really
play
cricket
,
and
when
you
are
watching
their
futile
efforts
you
make
funny
sounds
at
them
.
Nevertheless
,
there
was
a
very
disagreeable
incident
one
day
when
some
forward
girls
challenged
David
's
team
,
and
a
disturbing
creature
called
Angela
Clare
sent
down
so
many
yorkers
that
--
However
,
instead
of
telling
you
the
result
of
that
regrettable
match
I
shall
pass
on
hurriedly
to
the
Round
Pond
,
which
is
the
wheel
that
keeps
all
the
gardens
going
.
It
is
round
because
it
is
in
the
very
middle
of
the
Gardens
,
and
when
you
are
come
to
it
you
never
want
to
go
any
farther
.
You
ca
n't
be
good
all
the
time
at
the
Round
Pond
,
however
much
you
try
.
You
can
be
good
in
the
Broad
Walk
all
the
time
,
but
not
at
the
Round
Pond
,
and
the
reason
is
that
you
forget
,
and
,
when
you
remember
,
you
are
so
wet
that
you
may
as
well
be
wetter
.
There
are
men
who
sail
boats
on
the
Round
Pond
,
such
big
boats
that
they
bring
them
in
barrows
,
and
sometimes
in
perambulators
,
and
then
the
baby
has
to
walk
.
The
bow-legged
children
in
the
Gardens
are
those
who
had
to
walk
too
soon
because
their
father
needed
the
perambulator
.
You
always
want
to
have
a
yacht
to
sail
on
the
Round
Pond
,
and
in
the
end
your
uncle
gives
you
one
;
and
to
carry
it
to
the
pond
the
first
day
is
splendid
,
also
to
talk
about
it
to
boys
who
have
no
uncle
is
splendid
,
but
soon
you
like
to
leave
it
at
home
.
For
the
sweetest
craft
that
slips
her
moorings
in
the
Round
Pond
is
what
is
called
a
stick-boat
,
because
she
is
rather
like
a
stick
until
she
is
in
the
water
and
you
are
holding
the
string
.
Then
as
you
walk
round
,
pulling
her
,
you
see
little
men
running
about
her
deck
,
and
sails
rise
magically
and
catch
the
breeze
,
and
you
put
in
on
dirty
nights
at
snug
harbours
which
are
unknown
to
the
lordly
yachts
.
Night
passes
in
a
twink
,
and
again
your
rakish
craft
noses
for
the
wind
,
whales
spout
,
you
glide
over
buried
cities
,
and
have
brushes
with
pirates
,
and
cast
anchor
on
coral
isles
.
You
are
a
solitary
boy
while
all
this
is
taking
place
,
for
two
boys
together
can
not
adventure
far
upon
the
Round
Pond
,
and
though
you
may
talk
to
yourself
throughout
the
voyage
,
giving
orders
and
executing
them
with
despatch
,
you
know
not
,
when
it
is
time
to
go
home
,
where
you
have
been
or
what
swelled
your
sails
;
your
treasure-trove
is
all
locked
away
in
your
hold
,
so
to
speak
,
which
will
be
opened
,
perhaps
,
by
another
little
boy
many
years
afterwards
.
But
those
yachts
have
nothing
in
their
hold
.
Does
any
one
return
to
this
haunt
of
his
youth
because
of
the
yachts
that
used
to
sail
it
?
Oh
no
.
It
is
the
stick-boat
that
is
freighted
with
memories
.
The
yachts
are
toys
,
their
owner
a
fresh-water
mariner
;
they
can
cross
and
recross
a
pond
only
while
the
stick-boat
goes
to
sea
.
You
yachtsmen
with
your
wands
,
who
think
we
are
all
there
to
gaze
on
you
,
your
ships
are
only
accidents
of
this
place
,
and
were
they
all
to
be
boarded
and
sunk
by
the
ducks
,
the
real
business
of
the
Round
Pond
would
be
carried
on
as
usual
.
