Some of them are ordinary paths , which have a rail on each side , and are made by men with their coats off , but others are vagrants , wide at one spot , and at another so narrow that you can stand astride them . They are called Paths that have Made Themselves , and David did wish he could see them doing it . But , like all the most wonderful things that happen in the Gardens , it is done , we concluded , at night after the gates are closed . We have also decided that the paths make themselves because it is their only chance of getting to the Round Pond . One of these gypsy paths comes from the place where the sheep get their hair cut . When David shed his curls at the hairdresser 's , I am told , he said good-bye to them without a tremor , though his mother has never been quite the same bright creature since ; so he despises the sheep as they run from their shearer , and calls out tauntingly , ` Cowardly , cowardly custard ! ' But when the man grips them between his legs David shakes a fist at him for using such big scissors . Another startling moment is when the man turns back the grimy wool from the sheep 's shoulders and they look suddenly like ladies in the stalls of a theatre . The sheep are so frightened by the shearing that it makes them quite white and thin , and as soon as they are set free they begin to nibble the grass at once , quite anxiously , as if they feared that they would never be worth eating . David wonders whether they know each other , now that they are so different , and if it makes them fight with the wrong ones . They are great fighters , and thus so unlike country sheep that every year they give my St. Bernard dog , Porthos , a shock . He can make a field of country sheep fly by merely announcing his approach , but these town sheep come toward him with no promise of gentle entertainment , and then a light from last year breaks upon Porthos . He can not with dignity retreat , but he stops and looks about him as if lost in admiration of the scenery , and presently he strolls away with a fine indifference and a glint at me from the corner of his eye . -LSB- Illustration : Porthos -RSB- The Serpentine begins near here . It is a lovely lake , and there is a drowned forest at the bottom of it . If you peer over the edge you can see the trees all growing upside down , and they say that at night there are also drowned stars in it . If so , Peter Pan sees them when he is sailing across the lake in the Thrush 's Nest . A small part only of the Serpentine is in the Gardens , for soon it passes beneath a bridge to far away where the island is on which all the birds are born that become baby boys and girls . No one who is human , except Peter Pan -LRB- and he is only half human -RRB- , can land on the island , but you may write what you want -LRB- boy or girl , dark or fair -RRB- on a piece of paper , and then twist it into the shape of a boat and slip it into the water , and it reaches Peter Pan 's island after dark . -LSB- Illustration : One of the Paths that have Made Themselves -RSB- We are on the way home now , though of course , it is all pretence that we can go to so many of the places in one day .
I should have had to be carrying XXXXX long ago , and resting on every seat like old Mr. Salford .
Bernard David Gardens Porthos Thrush drowned night shearer vagrants year