Beneath either arm of his chair one of Uncle George's coat-tails
protruded. William soon departed on his way rejoicing, while on to one
of Uncle George's coat-tails was firmly stitched a bright blue sock
and on to the other a brilliant orange one. Robert's taste in socks
was decidedly loud. William felt almost happy. The rain had stopped
and he spent the morning with some of his friends whom he met in the
road. They went bear-hunting in the wood; and though no bears were
found, still their disappointment was considerably allayed by the fact
that one of them saw a mouse and another one distinctly smelt a
rabbit. William returned to lunch whistling to himself and had the
intense satisfaction of seeing Uncle George enter the dining-room,
obviously roused from his slumbers by the luncheon bell, and obviously
quite unaware of the blue and orange socks that still adorned his
person.

"Curious!" he ejaculated, as Ethel, William's grown-up sister, pointed
out the blue sock to him. "Most curious!"

William departed discreetly muttering something about "better tidy up
a bit," which drew from his sister expressions of surprise and
solicitous questions as to his state of health.

"Most curious!" again said Uncle George, who had now discovered the
orange sock.

When William returned, all excitement was over and Uncle George was
consuming roast beef with energy.

"Ah, William," he said, "we must complete the History lesson soon.
Nothing like History. Nothing like History. Nothing like History.