"Does that mean Indians, Miss Harson?" asked Malcolm, with a wry face at
the long word.

"Yes," was the reply; "and I hope that you will feel properly grateful
to these aborigines whenever you eat maple-sugar."



CHAPTER III.

_OLD ACQUAINTANCES: THE ELMS._

Miss Harson had admonished her little flock that they must use their own
eyes and be able to tell her things instead of depending altogether on
her to tell them; so now they were all peering curiously among the trees
to see which were putting on their new spring suits. The yellow trees
and the pink trees had been readily distinguished, but, although the
others had not been idle, it was not so easy for little people to
discern their leaf-buds.

Clara soon made a discovery, however, of what her governess had noticed
for a day or two, and the wonder was found on their own home-elms, those
stately trees which had shaded the house ever since it was built, and
from which the place got its pretty name--Elmridge.

"Well, dear," said Miss Harson, coming to the upper window from which an
eager head was thrust, "what is it that you wish me to see?"

"Those funny flowers on the bare elm trees," was the reply. "Look, Miss