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THE RAT 



summer was a warm one — I took a swim in the 

 beautiful clear water, and chased the little spotted 

 trouties for the sake of exercise. Fine exercise it 

 was, too, though they were a bit too quick for 

 me, and I never actually contrived to catch one. 

 I very nearly did one day, when a gay little sports- 

 man thought that he could put me off the scent by 

 plunging into a beautiful forest of wavy green 

 weed. How I burrowed in after him until I 

 was in the middle of a wilderness of emeralds ! 

 Unfortunately, I lost my wind just at the critical 

 moment, and was compelled to come up to the 

 surface for a breath of fresh air. I did not dis- 

 entangle myself from the rather clinging embrace 

 of those weeds any too soon, either, and when 1 

 went back to finish off my victim, with my poor 

 lungs plentifully supplied with air, lo and behold ! 

 he was not a victim at all, for he had gone and 

 bolted. ' Not playing the game fair,' I said to 

 myself. 



I had much better fun with the crayfish in the 

 pool below the sluice-gates, and when I found that 

 I had nice little fresh-water lobsters ready to be 

 caught at my very doors, I congratulated myself 

 more than ever on the skill with which I had 

 chosen my new dwelling-place. They were not 



