were; also that they are not so bellicose, and do not talk quite so much slang. I remember Etta all but coming to blows with another little girl on the Oxford and Cambridge Race day, only because Etta 'wanted Oxford to win,' and the other child Cambridge. As for Meg, she was a great deal more like a boy than a girl, and her highest expression of approval of either the one or the other used to be, 'Well, you are a brick!' Meg's expressions of approval were eagerly coveted by every one in the gardens, as she knew very well. It came naturally to her to be a leader, and an excellent one she was.

'Has Meg come yet?' used to be one of the first questions asked by early arrivals, and no one thought of beginning to play until she appeared, followed by her faithful attendant brothers, all in Highland dress. She was about twelve at the time when I remember her best, and the boys of all ages between ten and six. 'What, not begun yet?' she would say, as she joined the expectant group of children. 'Well, we'd better not lose any more time. Somebody go and bag the good flag ground. What sides shall we have? Leonard Moss, you and I will pick up. I'll begin. Aline West, I'll have you. Now then, Leonard. No, you'd better not have David; you and he oughtn't to be on the same side. David, you come here, and Etta, you be on Leonard's side to-day.' And so on, and so on, until she had arranged everything according to her own views of what was fitting. No, I never shall believe that as much fun can be got out of lawn-tennis as out of flags. For one thing, only four can play at tennis, and there is no talking, no daring one another to run the fearful risk of being caught, no sudden venturesome dashes, no taking of prisoners, no gallant rescues, no crowning glory of captured flags. Oh, there is no game like flags, and I am sure you would have said so if you had been with us in those days, and had had Meg on your side. Another thing is, that you must have a smooth bit of ground for tennis, and there is all the trouble of getting the courts marked out, and then the net belongs to somebody, and you have to get leave to play. Now, with flags, it does not matter what the ground is like, so long as there is a good big bit of it, with a path in the middle to divide it into two grounds, and a tree each side on which to hang the two handkerchiefs, which are all the implements wanted. There is no need to ask anybody's leave to use his courts a good flag-ground is open to all; it is only a case of * first come, first served;' that, at least, used to be our rule, only,

somehow or other, it had come to be an understood thing that Meg and her party should have what was universally considered the best ground. Her party did, indeed, include most of the children who came to the gardens, but sometimes there would be a certain number of the very little ones who did not care to play quite so hard as we did, or else some family who were not allowed t play with strangers; and, in either case, it was what we called the 'little flag-ground' that usually fell to their share. After Meg leh off coming to the gardens, the rule of first come, first served was much more strictly observed, and, indeed, it was Meg's own wish that it should be. This was how it all came about. It was a hot summer's evening, one of the last that there would be before we children were packed away into the country, away from the burning London pavement to the cool Kentish turf, away from our beloved gardens, to gardens and hay-fields yet more dearly beloved. We had done our lessons, had an early tea, and come out to play. So had the Dacres, who were standing with their governess at the iron gate of the gardens as we came up.

'That's capital!' exclaimed Meg when she saw us-I can see her now, dear Meg, in a blue cotton frock, and a sailor hat on her yellow curly head-that's capital. It's so fine; everybody will be here, and we'll have a real good game.' 'Everybody' did seem to be there, and it was a large party which assembled on the big flag-ground for the business of choosing sides. There were several new comers-I remember that—and this delayed us rather, so that we were not ready to begin the game, and the flags had not been hung up, though they had been taken from their owners' pockets, and lay ready on the grass, when there was a sudden rush on the part of some small children who were under the trees with their nurses, and a cry of The Queen! the Queen! come and see the Queen go by!' Now that was a summons which was never disregarded. We were very loyal in the gardens, and though from their situation we probably had as many chances of seeing Her Majesty as almost any of her subjects, yet we were never tired of doing so, and we would leave the most exciting games for such a chance. A certain rivalry existed among the girls as to the way in which their small brothers took off their hats, and it was not uncommon to hear such boasts as 'The Queen must have seen Charlie that time,' 'She bowed to Willie straight at him.' This occasion was no exception to the general rule. There was a stampede to the railings, and for five

minutes the game was forgotten. Well, Her Majesty had passed, the straw hats and Scotch caps had been taken off, the curtseys bobbed, the bow made, and claimed by every one. It was time to return to business. Come along!' cried Meg, with a flying leap over a geranium bed. No time to be lost. Whom did I choose? 'Wasn't it—' The words died away upon her lips. We had reached the big flag-ground, and—it was occupied. Yes, there was a game of flags going on in full swing. A handkerchief fluttered from each of the two big trees which formed our flag-staffs; by the bench under one of them stood two small prisoners holding each other's hands and dancing up and down in their eagerness for a rescue; in front of them paraded a gaoler bent on frustrating every attempt of the enemy, who were harassing her greatly by their sudden darts from and retreats to the neutral gravel path. It was not a large party-only three on each side-but it was a very spirited and energetic one; each player was absorbed in the game, and the determination and activity of the gaoler were in particular very noticeable. I know her,' said Meg, in low tones of suppressed wrath. It's that girl at the French class that always knows the passé défini of everything. Just what one would expect!'

'What are we to do?' asked Leonard Moss. 'We can't possibly go to the little ground-we've much too many for that.'

'Shall we just ask them to go away quietly?' suggested his brother David, who was of rather a pacific turn of mind.

'And tell them that we took the ground first?' said little Aline West.

'What do you think, Meg?' said Cyril Dacre.

'Yes, what are we to do, Meg?' chimed in Percy and Claude.

'Do?' said Meg, wrathfully. Why, defend our just rights, to be sure! You must stand by me, all of you, for if this kind of thing is once to begin, there's no saying where it'll end ;' with which enigmatical and alarming threat, Meg strode up to the nearest flag-staff, and hauled down the flag! There was a moment's pause, and then the six players, whose territory had been so ruthlessly invaded, came running up to the spot. There were two boys, little fellows in sailor suits, and four girls, three of them sisters, to judge by the resemblance in their long fair hair, and their striped cotton frocks; and one, the sturdy, determinedlooking, dark-haired young person, whom those of us who attended

the French class—and most of us did-recognised immediately as 'the passé défini girl.'

The boys evidently had a sense of the duties which devolved upon them as belonging to the sterner sex, for they both stepped up to Meg-they were about half her size-with a very defiant air indeed.

'What did you do that for?' inquired one, and 'Yes, what was it for?' chimed in the other.

'To teach you not to take other people's flag-grounds,' said Meg.

'We didn't take anything,' said the little boy.

'And you're not to pull down my cousin's handkerchief. I stick up for her.'

'So will I,' said his brother.

'And I'll stick up for Meg,' said Cyril Dacre.

'I can stick up for myself,' said Meg (which was, indeed, most true). And I am not going to talk to babies. Look here,' she went on, addressing the girls, 'a whole lot of us came here to play flags this afternoon, and we took this ground. There are our handkerchiefs on the grass. You can see for yourselves. Then the Queen went by, and, of course, we ran to see. When we come back, we find you have taken the ground. Now that isn't fair, nor the way of the gardens, and we're not used to it. The only right thing now is for you to go off somewhere else. and leave us to have our game.' Meg stopped speaking, and we, her followers, drew up closer round her, with a feeling of pride in her eloquence and determination.

The two little boys flushed scarlet; but they no longer felt themselves equal to the emergency. They turned with one accord to the passé défini girl. 'Winnie, I say 'I say, Winnie

The only right thing,' said that young woman, stepping forward, and looking Meg full in the face the only right thing is for you to beg our pardon for having been so extremely rude, and then leave us to finish the game you have interrupted.'

Here was a pretty business! This was a pretty way in which to address the champion of the gardens! We simply stood aghast, and gazed at Meg, whose eyes were blazing with wrath.

'Beg your pardon, indeed,' she cried, 'for pulling down your flag, which ought never to have been put up! A very likely

thing, to be sure! You don't know the way of the gardens, or you'd know that nothing is thought so sneaking as to come and take away people's flags, when once they've been put up!''And which of us has done that?' asked Winnie, quietly. Why, you, to be sure!' cried Meg. 'Our flags

'Are just where we found them-on the grass,' said Winnie. 'We didn't even know they were flags. I don't often come to the gardens now; but I used to once, and then I know the rule was that the ground was taken by the people who put up their flags first. So we are really in the right. Still, my cousins and I shouldn't have taken the ground if we had known that you meant to; and even now, if you had asked us civilly, we would have gone away. But as it is

'Yes,' said Meg, fiercely, 'as it is?'

'As it is,' went on Winnie, very quietly, 'we mean to stay!' 'Yes,' cried the little boys, bristling up, we do mean to stay!

'Couldn't we all play together?' suggested Aline West, who had been consulting with her sister Edna, and come to the conclusion that, though it would not do to say so, Meg was certainly in the wrong.

'I am very sorry,' said Winnie, 'but my cousins are not allowed to play with any one they don't know. I never thought till to-day that there was any need for such a rule; but I see now that having a key to the gardens doesn't prevent people from being rude.'

'Meg's not rude!' cried her five brothers in chorus.

'And I don't care if I am!' shouted Meg. But I mean to play here to-day! Leonard Moss, go and take down the other flag. David, you put up ours. There are more of us than of them, and we won't be turned out like this. Now, will you go off at once?'

'No,' said Winnie.

'Then will you fight for the ground?' cried Meg.

'We are not boys, and we are not wild cats,' said Winnie, and we will do nothing of the kind.'

Then, what will you do?' said Meg, beside herself with anger, partly at Winnie's imperturbability and partly because Leonard and David had not executed her orders. 'What will you do if we insist upon your going?'

'I shall speak to your governess,' said Winnie.

'Well, you are a sneak!' said Meg, in tones of the deepest