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 David long ago , and resting on every seat like old Mr. Salford . That was what we called him , because he always talked to us of a lovely place called Salford where he had been born . He was a crab-apple of an old gentleman who wandered all day in the Gardens from seat to seat trying to fall in with somebody who was acquainted with the town of Salford , and when we had known him for a year or more we actually did meet another aged solitary who had once spent Saturday to Monday in Salford . He was meek and timid , and carried his address inside his hat , and whatever part of London he was in search of he always went to Westminster Abbey first as a starting-point . Him we carried in triumph to our other friend , with the story of that Saturday to Monday , and never shall I forget the gloating joy with which Mr. Salford leapt at him . They have been cronies ever since , and I notice that Mr. Salford , who naturally does most of the talking , keeps tight grip of the other old man 's coat .
-LSB- Illustration : Old Mr. Salford was a crab-apple of an old gentleman who wandered all XXXXX in the Gardens -RSB- -LSB- Illustration : Away he flew , right over the houses to the Gardens -RSB- The two last places before you come to our gate are the Dogs ' Cemetery and the chaffinch 's nest , but we pretend not to know what the Dogs ' Cemetery is , as Porthos is always with us .
Gardens London Pan Serpentine crab-apple day drowned fall night year