William was on the floor behind Uncle George’s chair endeavouring to turn a somersault in a very restricted space.

“History lessons an’ dates an’ things,” he said shortly.  “An’ the things they ’spect you to remember——!” he added with disgust.

“No, no,” said Uncle George, but the fire was hot and his chair was comfortable and his educational zeal was dying away, “to endure the buffets of fate with equanimity, to smile at misfortune, to endure whatever comes, and so on——­”

He stopped suddenly.

William had managed the somersault, but it had somehow brought his feet into collision with Uncle George’s neck.  Uncle George sleepily shifted his position.

[Illustration:  WILLIAM WAS ON THE FLOOR BEHIND UNCLE GEORGE’S CHAIR ENDEAVOURING TO TURN A SOMERSAULT IN A VERY RESTRICTED SPACE.]

“Boisterous!  Boisterous!” he murmured disapprovingly.  “You should combine the gentleness of a Moore with the courage of a Wellington, William.”

William now perceived that Uncle George’s eyelids were drooping slowly and William’s sudden statuesque calm would have surprised many of his instructors.

The silence and the warmth of the room had their effect.  In less than three minutes Uncle George was dead to the world around him.

William’s form relaxed, then he crept up to look closely at the face of his enemy.  He decided that he disliked it intensely.  Something must be done at once.  He looked round the room.  There were not many weapons handy.  Only his mother’s work-box stood on a chair by the window, and on it a pile of socks belonging to Robert, William’s elder brother.  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.