Of lark's and blackbird's song,
And merry little finches,
Singing the whole day long."--C. H.


One bright spring day, not so very long ago, three little children
arrived at their grandfather's house. They had come to pay a long visit,
as their parents were travelling abroad for two or three months.

Now grandpapa lived less than twenty miles from London, yet his house
was quite in the country,--indeed you might have thought that it was a
hundred miles away from any town,--and it was called Woodside.

You may be sure that Jack, Mary, and Annie--for those were the names of
the children--thought the change from London most delightful.

Jack was the eldest--that is why I have put his name before those of his
sisters--and he was ten years old. Mary was the next in age, and she was
nearly nine; while Annie, the youngest, was seven.

On the day they arrived they felt very quiet, all was so strange after
London; besides, they were busy unpacking their toys and picture-books,
and in finding places for all their treasures in the rooms grandmamma
had set apart for them.

They went to bed early too, and never once woke till their nurse called
them in the morning. At first they felt sorry it was time to get up, but
when Jane drew up the blinds, and they saw the bright sunshine and the
clear blue sky, they made haste to dress, so that after breakfast was
over they might go out of doors.