On the slippery plank-bridge across the mill stream all paused a
moment to watch the dragon-flies that set the air on fire with their
coloured tails.
"The things that nobody can understand!" cried Judy.
"Nobody else," Tim corrected her. "We do!"
They leaned over the rail and saw their own reflections in the running
water.
"Why, Come-Back hasn't got a button-hole!" exclaimed Judy--and flew
off to find one for him, Tim fast upon her heels like a collie after a
dipping swallow. They raced down the banks where the golden king-cups
grew in spendthrift patches and disappeared among the colonies of
reeds. Between some hanging willow branches further down they were
visible a moment, like dryad figures peering and flitting through the
cataract of waving green. They searched as though their lives depended
on success. It was absurd that Stumper had no button-hole!
Maria, seated comfortably on the lower rail, watched their efforts and
listened to the bursts of laughing voices that came up-stream--then,
with a leisurely movement, took the flower from her own button-hole
and handed it to Stumper. The eyes rolled upwards with the flower--
solemnly.
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