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Loganberry sighed and ran his paws through the tuft of fur between his long ears. He was tackling a particularly thorny passage of Old Lapine this morning, and even the plate of chocolate digestives at his elbow wasn't helping. The thought that he would be teaching 2H in an hour certainly wasn't.

Great Frith, what was that word? He suspected it was the key to understanding the whole passage, if only he could work it out. It wasn't in his dictionary and he couldn't guess it from the root, but it appeared several times and must be important. The context wasn't helping either; why was it mentioned in the same sentence as a hedgehog, yona, but also with words involving water? Yonil didn't swim! The storyteller had to be making some sort of point, but what?

He was just reaching for another biscuit when something crashed through the study window. Logan sprang out of his chair, age-old instincts preparing him for flight before more civilised ones led him to investigate further.

A cricket ball lay on the rug in a halo of broken glass. Careful of his bare hind paws, he picked it up and crossed to the window.

In the quad below, a group of small, horrified muzzles turned upwards to look at him. There was a moment of silence, then a young hedgehog shouted "He did it!"

He was pointing at a plump little rabbit known since his first day at school as Rooli Roo, or 'Little Kitten', after the star of the Level One Lapine textbook. Normally a bundle of chatter and energy, the kit had apparently been struck dumb and immobile by the magnitude of events. Loganberry didn't doubt for a second that the hedgehog was telling the truth; quite apart from the youngster's guilty expression, it was just the sort of thing that would happen to Rooli.

"Thank you, Jonas," Logan said, in a tone meant to convey that telling tales was frowned upon. "Rooli Roo, just pop up here for a moment, would you, please?"

A minute later, the sound of scampering heralded a furry-fisted knock on his study door.

"Dayn ven," Logan called. He used Lapine in conversation with his pupils whenever possible; he loved to hear a class bawl back "Frithaes, Brekytennion-rah! in response to his "Frithaes, roolil".

Rooli Roo obediently came in, his ears flat against his head. "I'm sorry, sir!" he said. "It was an accident!"

"I'm sure it was, Rooli Roo. Nobody would hit a cricket ball like that on purpose. It would have been a ridiculously easy catch, if my window hadn't got in the way," he said severely. The small rabbit stared up at him, all big eyes and buck teeth and looking very close to going tharn on the rug. Time to stop teasing.

"Get the dustpan out of the cupboard there and sweep up the mess - carefully! Don't cut yourself! - while I find something to block the window, and we'll say no more about it."

Relief flooded through the kit, and he leaped for the dustpan and brush. Loganberry glanced around his study, unhooked a painting of a former headmaster from the wall and propped it across the broken pane.

"There! This old homba can have a view of the quad for a bit. Maybe he'll keep you boys in order."

"Sir?" Rooli Roo was on his knees, tipping the broken glass into the waste paper basket. "You used to play for Padshire, didn't you, sir?"

"Indeed I did, Rooli Roo."

"Will you come and show us how to hit the ball properly?"

Loganberry wavered. He still had to finish his translation - that paper was hopelessly overdue - and he had a class to teach before lunch, not to mention a batch of marking. But it was a beautiful day outside, and Rooli was looking up at him with such a pleading expression...

"Oh, all right," he said, and fetched his bat from the umbrella-stand.

When he turned around, he noticed that the plate on his desk no longer contained any biscuits. But he decided not to mention it.

*

One of the other masters, a badger, stared at them as they passed in the corridor.

"In trouble again, Rooli Roo?" he grunted. "You silly little boy!"

"Don't worry, Wilkins, everything's in paw," Loganberry told him. They stepped out into the quad, where the rest of the cricketers were huddled in an anxious group.

"Rooli Roo asked me to give you lot some batting tips," he announced. "But not in the quad! Come on!"

They all streamed out on to the playing-field behind the school: fox and badger cubs, rabbits, kittens, puppies, a fawn, an otter, and Jonas the hedgehog. Loganberry took up position at the wicket while Rooli Roo, quite recovered from the disaster and ready for more mischief, stood opposite him.

"Watch this, sir!" He raced down the crease, arm windmilling, and bowled. Logan stepped forward into it, keeping his bat straight and using his shoulder to drive the shot. It connected with a satisfying _thwac_k.

"That's a four!" said a golden retriever puppy, adjusting his spectacles.

"It's a six!" shouted the otter pup.

"It's hrair," grinned Rooli Roo, using the Lapine word for a number beyond counting. As the bowler, he felt some of the credit should go to him.

They watched, craning their necks, as the ball soared out of the field and disappeared beyond the belt of surrounding trees.

"Oh Sir!" said the fawn, in obvious distress. It had been his ball.

"Oh, dear, Braithwaite, I'm sorry! We'd better go and look for it."

Logan led the expedition into the woody, brambly patch, parting blackberry stems and flattening nettles with his bat. The young furs split up, searching the banks of the muddy little stream and poking their paws in holes in the banks. Those with good noses used them.

"Sir! Sir!" It was Rooli Roo, pointing excitedly. By the time Loganberry had looked round, he was reaching into the water with a stick.

Logan knew this particular pupil well enough to shout "Stop!" and run towards him. But it was too late. Rooli had leaned too far and toppled into the water, nobody in the class escaping the resulting splash. The cats retreated, shaking themselves indignantly.

"Come out at once, Rooli Roo! You really are the absolute -"

"Help! I can't swim!"

Of course he couldn't. Typical Rooli! The stream wasn't deep or fast, but for a small, panicking kitten who kept slipping on the stones so he couldn't stand up, it was both scary and dangerous. Logan waded in and grabbed Rooli under the armpits, earning a kick in the ribs for his pains. He deposited the kit none too gently on the bank, then, since he was wet already, rolled up his sleeve and retrieved the cricket ball from the stony bed of the stream.

At least he didn't wear shoes, so only his trousers were really wet. Logan splashed back to the bank and dropped the ball into Braithwaite's eager hooves. As he did so, Rooli Roo, who had been dripping quietly with a subdued expression on his face, suddenly shrieked and threw himself down on his back.

"What's the matter?" Logan asked, kneeling beside him.

"I think I'm having a spasm!" Rooli reported, writhing on the muddy bank. His spine arched and he kicked with his hind legs as his ancestors would have struggled in a snare. With that horrid thought, Loganberry took hold of the kit so he wouldn't roll back into the water. Rooli gave a squeak and a wriggle, and something slipped out of the back of his shirt.

Loganberry captured the little fish as it flopped on the ground. He filled his cupped paws with water and held it for the class to see.

"A stickleback! No wonder you were uncomfortable, Rooli! See the spines?"

"Ooh," said Rooli Roo. "A water-hedgehog!"

"What did you call it, Roo?" Logan froze with his paws just below the surface of the water. The stickleback, scenting freedom, made a wild leap over his fingers and whizzed away among the weeds.

"Water-hedgehog. My great-gran always calls them that."

Suddenly, the whole passage of Old Lapine unfolded in Loganberry's brain, making perfect sense. Stickleback - the mystery word, a beautiful, elegant simile that brought sense to the puzzling sentences and the long-dead storyteller's tale to its only possible conclusion. He straightened up and grinned. A beautiful day indeed!

He was itching to get back to his study and the ancient text - not to mention a dry pair of trousers - but it could wait a few minutes more.

"Rooli Roo - go and tell Matron to give you some clean clothes, and then come straight back out here. Don't let her keep you! Tell her it's urgent! And then..." he beamed at the group of small, mystified furs, "I'm taking you all to the tuck shop for an ice cream!"