8 THE OPEN AIR, 



stop talking, and never say a word. Once, wliile 

 they were all talking pleasantly, Guido caught a fly 

 in his hand, he felt his hand tickle as the fly 

 stepped on it, and he shut up his little fist so 

 quickly he caught the fly in the hollow between the 

 palm and his fingers. The fly went buzz, and rushed 

 to get out, but Guido laughed, so the fly buzzed 

 again, and just told the grass, and the grass told the 

 bushes, and everything knew in a moment, and Guido 

 never heard another word all that day. Yet sometimes 

 now they all knew something about him ; they would 

 go on talking. You see, they all rather petted and 

 spoiled him. Next, if Guido did not hear them 

 conversing, the fern said he must touch a little piece 

 of grass and put it against his cheek, or a leaf, and 

 kiss it, and say, "Leaf, leaf, tell them I am here." 

 Now, while he was lying down, and the tip of the 

 rushes touched his foot, he remembered this, so he 

 moved the rush with his foot and said, " Kush, rush, 

 tell them I am here." Immediately there came a 

 little wind, and the wheat swung to and fro, the oak- 

 leaves rustled, the rushes bowed, and the shadows 

 slipped forwards and back again. Then it was still, 

 and the nearest wheat-ear to Guido nodded his head, 

 and said in a very low tone, '' Guido, dear, just this 

 minute I do not feel very happy, although the sun- 

 shine is so warm, because I have been thinking, for 

 we have been in one or other of these fields of your 

 papa's a thousand years this very year. Every year 

 we have been sown, and weeded, and reaped, and 

 garnered. Every year the sun has ripened us, and the 

 rain made us grow ; every year for a thousand years." 



