THE STRANGER IN THE VILLAGE.


"Margary," said her mother, "take the pitcher now, and fetch me some
fresh, cool water from the well, and I will cook the porridge for
supper."

"Yes, mother," said Margary. Then she put on her little white dimity
hood, and got the pitcher, which was charmingly shaped, from the
cupboard shelf. The cupboard was a three-cornered one beside the
chimney. The cottage which Margary and her mother lived in, was very
humble, to be sure, but it was very pretty. Vines grew all over it,
and flowering bushes crowded close to the diamond-paned windows. There
was a little garden at one side, with beds of pinks and violets in it,
and a straw-covered beehive, and some raspberry bushes all yellow with
fruit.

Inside the cottage, the floor was sanded with the whitest sand; lovely
old straight-backed chairs stood about; there was an oaken table,
and a spinning-wheel. A wicker cage, with a lark in it, hung in the
window.

Margary with her pitcher, tripped along to the village well. On the
way she met two of her little mates--Rosamond and Barbara. They were
flying along, their cheeks very rosy and their eyes shining.

"O, Margary," they cried, "come up to the tavern, quick, and see! The