Q2 Raggylug 



IV 



Bright August sunlight was flooding the 

 Swamp in the morning. Everything seemed 

 soaking in the warm radiance. A little brown 

 swamp-sparrow was teetering on a long rush in 

 the pond. Beneath him there were open spaces 

 of dirty water that brought down a few scraps 

 of the blue sky, and worked it and the yellow 

 duckweed into an exquisite mosaic, with a little 

 wrong-side picture of the bird in the middle. 

 On the bank behind was a great vigorous 

 growth of golden green skunk-cabbage, that 

 cast a dense shadow over the brown swamp 

 tussocks. 



The eyes of the swamp-sparrow were not 

 trained to take in the color glories, but he saw 

 what we might have missed ; that two of the 

 numberless leafy brown bumps under the 

 broad cabbage-leaves were furry, living things, 

 with noses that never ceased to move up and 

 down whatever else was still. 



It was Molly and Rag. They were stretched 

 under the skunk-cabbage, not because they 

 liked its rank smell, but because the winged ticks 

 could not stand it at all and so left them in peace. 



Rabbits have no set time for lessons, they 

 are always learning ; but what the lesson is de- 



