He took Judy by the hand, and the two fled hatless in the direction of the sound of the sea. Downe Villa was almost the last of a range of newly-built houses running out, through a chaos of brick-mounds, to a heath where gipsies occasionally camped and where the Garrison Artillery of Rocklington practised. There were few people to be seen, and the children might have been taken for those of the soldiery who ranged far. Half an hour the wearied little legs tramped across heath, potato-field, and sand-dune.
"I'se so tired," said Judy, "and Mamma will be angry."
"Mamma's never angry. I suppose she is waiting at the sea now while Papa gets tickets. We'll find them and go along with. Ju, you mustn't sit down. Only a little more and we'll come to the sea. Ju, if you sit down I'll thmack you!" said Punch.
They climbed another dune, and came upon the great grey sea at low tide. Hundreds of crabs were scuttling about the beach, but there was no trace of Papa or Mamma, not even of a ship upon the waters—nothing but sand and mud for miles and miles.
And "Uncleharri" found them by chance—very muddy and very forlorn—Punch dissolved in tears, but trying to divert Judy with a "ickle trab," and Judy wailing to the pitiless horizon for "Mamma, Mamma!"—and again "Mamma!"
THE SECOND BAG.
Ah, welladay, for we are souls bereaved!
Of all the creatures under Heaven's wide scope
We are most hopeless who had once more hope,
And most beliefless who had most believed.
ALL this time not a word about Black Sheep. He came later and Harry the black-haired boy was mainly responsible for his coming.
Judy—who could help loving little Judy?—passed by special permit, into the kitchen and thence straight to Aunty
