A Quick-Running Squash. 5

away from me, I must stop it,” and he darted
swiftly down the street after it.

But, alas, no boy could run as fast as that
squash, and Charles saw far ahead the bright
yellow ball now grown to be about the size of
an ordinary squash, running and capering merrily
over stones big and little, never turning out for
anything, but bobbing up and down, up and
down, and waving its long green vine like a tail
behind it. The boy ran swiftly on. “It shall wot
get away,” he panted. “It belongs to me.”

But that the squash did not seem to realize
at all. He did not feel that he belonged to any-
body, and he ad feel that he was a quick-running
squash, and so on he scampered.

Suddenly he came to a very large rock, and
stopped for a moment to take breath, and in
that moment Charles caught up with him and
simply sat down on him.

“Now, squash,” said he, slapping him on the
side, “your journey is ended.”

The words were scarcely spoken when he
suddenly felt himself lifted up in the air, and