"Oh, how beautiful!" he exclaimed. "I'm so glad, Emma, that you thought
of it; it is splendid to draw! I'll begin directly; not exactly here,
but a little farther off." And Fani stepped slowly back till he had
reached the right point of view. There he sat down on the ground, and
Emma, placing herself at his side, drew out from her satchel a perfect
wealth of paper and pencils.

"There's paper enough there to make a great many sketches," said the
boy, as he looked with longing eyes at all this fine material.

"I will give you a lot of it to take home," said Emma. "I thought I
would bring a good deal, because you might have to try several times
before you got a good picture. Now pick out a pencil, Fani."

It seemed to Fani a wonderful mine of wealth; all this fresh paper, and
such an assortment of pencils to choose from. He selected two pencils,
and then, spreading a sheet of white paper before him, he began his
sketch. Emma watched every stroke with silent intentness. But, as the
picture grew under the boy's fingers, she could not control her
excitement.

"Oh! oh! Now it looks exactly like the real oak! How nicely you make the
branches and all the dear little twigs! Oh! it is the very best thing
you ever did, Fani! How pleased the teacher will be! I'm sure none of
the others will do anything half so good! How can you do it, Fani? I
never could in the world."

"I only just copy what I see," said Fani, whose eyes constantly moved
back and forth between the tree and his paper, while his cheeks glowed