"I have it," cried Rolf at last, much delighted. "It is Cat-nip!"

"O, O, what a guess! what are you thinking of? It is something very
different, entirely different. It is music. Mew--sick--music, don't you
see?"

"Oh, yes," said Rolf rather abashed. "Now wait Jule, here's another. What
is this?"

"My first sings by the water side,
My next is Heidelberg's great pride,
My whole was a blind poet, who
In England lived and suffered too."

"Shakspere," said Julius, whose pride it was to answer instantly.

"Wrong," cried Rolf, delighted. "How could a _shake_ sing by the water
side, Jule?"

"Oh, I supposed you meant a shake in somebody's voice, as he was riding or
driving along," said Jule, to justify himself. "Now what are you laughing
at?"

"Because you have made such a wrong guess. It is some one 'very different,
entirely different,' Jule. It is Milton, the blind poet Milton. Now try
another because you failed in this. My first"--

"No, no, I must beg for a rest. It is too much brain work for vacation. I
am going now to see how Castor is after my ride this morning." And Julius
dashed off to the stable.