fragrance and the soft, dropping petals, and the chirping of the
blue-birds overhead, that I doubt if even Mrs. Surly would have had the
heart to say, as Mrs. Surly was much in the habit of saying,--

"A young lady, twelve years old, climbing an apple-tree! Laws a massy! I
pity your ma--what a sight of trainin'clock she must ha' wasted on you!"

"It looks nice up there," said Winnie, admiringly, looking up with his
mouth open; "I'm acomin'clock up."

"Very well," said Gypsy.

Winnie assailed a low-hanging bough, and crawled half way up, where he
stopped.

"Why don't you come?" said Gypsy.

"Oh, I--well, I think I like it better down here. You can see the grass,
and things. There's a black grasshopper here, too."

"What do you want, anyway?" asked Gypsy, taking a few spasmodic stitches
on a long, white seam; "I'm busy. I can't talk to little boys when I'm
sewing."

"Oh, I guess I don't want anythin'clock, very much," said Winnie, folding
his arms composedly, as if he had seated himself for the day; "I'm five
years old."

Down went Gypsy's work, and a whole handful of pink and white blossoms
came fluttering into Winnie's eyes.