Jem and Jerry were playing quoits with old horseshoes borrowed from the Glen blacksmith . Carl was stalking ants on a sunny hillock . Walter , lying on his stomach among the fern , was reading aloud to Mary and Di and Faith and Una from a wonderful book of myths wherein were fascinating accounts of Prester John and the Wandering Jew , divining rods and tailed men , of Schamir , the worm that split rocks and opened the way to golden treasure , of Fortunate Isles and swan-maidens . It was a great shock to Walter to learn that William Tell and Gelert were myths also ; and the story of Bishop Hatto was to keep him awake all that night ; but best of all he loved the stories of the Pied Piper and the San Greal . He read them thrillingly , while the bells on the Tree Lovers tinkled in the summer wind and the coolness of the evening shadows crept across the valley . `` Say , ai n't them in ` resting lies ? '' said Mary admiringly when Walter had closed the book . `` They are n't lies , '' said Di indignantly . `` You do n't mean they 're true ? '' asked Mary incredulously . `` No -- not exactly . They 're like those ghost-stories of yours . They were n't true -- but you did n't expect us to believe them , so they were n't lies . '' `` That yarn about the divining rod is no lie , anyhow , '' said Mary . `` Old Jake Crawford over-harbour can work it . They send for him from everywhere when they want to dig a well . And I believe I know the Wandering Jew . '' `` Oh , Mary , '' said Una , awe-struck . `` I do -- true 's you 're alive . There was an old man at Mrs. Wiley 's one day last fall .
He looked old enough XXXXX be ANYTHING .
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