But now the sun was out, every fence and farm-yard rope was a string of diamond drops.

There was one to every blade of grass; they lurked among the wild roses; larks, drunken with song, shook them from their wings.

The whole earth shone so gloriously with them that for a time Tommy ceased to care whether he was admired.

We can pay nature no higher compliment.
But when they came to the Slugs! The Slugs of Kenny is a wild crevice through which the Drumly cuts its way, black and treacherous, into a lovely glade where it gambols for the rest of its short life; you would not believe, to see it laughing, that it had so lately escaped from prison.

To the Slugs they made their way--not to fish, for any trout that are there are thinking for ever of the way out and of nothing else, but to eat their luncheon, and they ate it sitting on the mossy stones their persons had long ago helped to smooth, and looking at a roan-branch, which now, as then, was trailing in the water.
There were no fish to catch, but there was a boy trying to catch them.
He was on the opposite bank; had crawled down it, only other boys can tell how, a barefooted urchin of ten or twelve, with an enormous bagful of worms hanging from his jacket button.