He was about to roar when, lying among the black sticks and straw under the cliff, he saw a whole skull--perhaps a cow's skull, a skull, perhaps, with the teeth in it.
Sobbing, but absent-mindedly, he ran farther and farther away until he held the skull in his arms.
"There he is!" cried Mrs.Flanders, coming round the rock and covering the whole space of the beach in a few seconds.

"What has he got hold of?
Put it down, Jacob! Drop it this moment! Something horrid, I know.

Why didn't you stay with us?
Naughty little boy! Now put it down.

Now come along both of you," and she swept round, holding Archer by one hand and fumbling for Jacob's arm with the other.

But he ducked down and picked up the sheep's jaw, which was loose.
Swinging her bag, clutching her parasol, holding Archer's hand, and telling the story of the gunpowder explosion in which poor Mr.Curnow had lost his eye, Mrs.Flanders hurried up the steep lane, aware all the time in the depths of her mind of some buried discomfort.
There on the sand not far from the lovers lay the old sheep's skull without its jaw.