than he felt, in spite of his numerous advantages. On this day he was
in a particularly bad temper. He had lamed his pony the day before, by
riding it furiously over a bad road after it had cast a shoe. The
gardener had objected to his picking more than half a dozen peaches
which had just come into perfection, and had threatened to appeal to
the squire.

Altogether, he was out of sorts, and had walked down to the sea with a
vague hope that something might turn up to amuse him. He stood for some
little time watching James sail the boat, and then strode down to the
edge of the pool. The boat was a model of a smack, with brown sails.
James had taken a good deal of pains with it, and it was an excellent
model.

Presently, in crossing, she stuck in a shallow some twelve feet from
the edge. The intervening stretch of water was a foot deep.

James picked up some small stones and threw them close to her, that the
tiny wave they made might float her off. He tried several times without
success.

"What's the use of such little stones as that?" Richard said roughly.
"You will never get her off like that;" and picking up one as large as
his fist, he threw it with some force.

It struck the mast, and broke it asunder, and knocked the boat on to
her side. James Walsham uttered an angry exclamation.

"You are a bad boy," Aggie said passionately. "You are a bad boy to
break my boat;" and she burst into tears.