churches were decorated, and flags put out on the towers, and
everybody in the congregation was expected to carry a nosegay.

Rupert and I and Henrietta and Baby Cecil and the servants always
enjoyed this thoroughly, and thought the churches delightfully sweet;
but my Mother said the smell of the cottage nosegays and the noise of
the bells made her feel very ill, which was a pity.

Fred Johnson once told me some wonderful stories about the brother
churches. We had gone over the canal to a field not far from the
cricketing field, but it was a sort of water-meadow, and lower down,
and opposite to the churches, which made us think of them. We had
gone there partly to get yellow flags to try and grow them in tubs as
Johnson's father did water-lilies, and partly to watch for a
canal-boat or "monkey-barge," which was expected up with coal. Fred
knew the old man, and we hoped to go home as part of the cargo if the
old man's dog would let us; but he was a rough terrier, with an
exaggerated conscience, and strongly objected to anything coming on
board the boat which was not in the bill of lading. He could not even
reconcile himself to the fact that people not connected with barges
took the liberty of walking on the canal banks.

"He've been a-going up and down with me these fifteen year," said the
old man, "and he barks at 'em still." He barked so fiercely at us that
Fred would not go on board, to my great annoyance, for I never feel
afraid of dogs, and was quite sure I could see a disposition to wag
about the stumpy tail of the terrier in spite of his "bowfs."

I may have been wrong, but once or twice I fancied that Fred shirked
adventures which seemed nothing to me; and I felt this to be very odd,