thought of it. He is not ashamed of having THOUGHT of it. That
was rather clever of him. But he knows now that it is better not
to take other people's foxes and things without asking, even if you
live in the same house with them.

It was Oswald who undid the back of the glass case in the hall and
got out the fox with the green and grey duck in its mouth, and when
the others saw how awfully like life they looked on the lawn, they
all rushed off to fetch the other stuffed things. Uncle has a
tremendous lot of stuffed things. He shot most of them
himself--but not the fox, of course. There was another fox's mask,
too, and we hung that in a bush to look as if the fox was peeping
out. And the stuffed birds we fastened on to the trees with
string. The duck-bill--what's its name?--looked very well sitting
on his tail with the otter snarling at him. Then Dicky had an
idea; and though not nearly so much was said about it afterwards as
there was about the stuffed things, I think myself it was just as
bad, though it was a good idea, too. He just got the hose and put
the end over a branch of the cedar-tree. Then we got the steps
they clean windows with, and let the hose rest on the top of the
steps and run. It was to be a waterfall, but it ran between the
steps and was only wet and messy; so we got Father's mackintosh and
uncle's and covered the steps with them, so that the water ran down
all right and was glorious, and it ran away in a stream across the
grass where we had dug a little channel for it--and the otter and
the duck-bill-thing were as if in their native haunts. I hope all
this is not very dull to read about. I know it was jolly good fun
to do. Taking one thing with another, I don't know that we ever
had a better time while it lasted.