hut still, even when his eyes were closed, his thoughts were with the
young people, playing among the flowers and shrubbery of the garden.

He heard the voice of Laurence, who had taken possession of a heap of
decayed branches which the gardener had lopped from the fruit-trees, and
was building a little hut for his cousin Clara and himself. He heard
Clara's gladsome voice, too, as she weeded and watered the flower-bed
which had been given her for her own. He could have counted every
footstep that Charley took, as he trundled his wheelbarrow along the
gravel-walk. And though' Grandfather was old and gray-haired, yet his
heart leaped with joy whenever little Alice came fluttering, like a
butterfly, into the room. Sire had made each of the children her
playmate in turn, and now made Grandfather her playmate too, and thought
him the merriest of them all.

At last the children grew weary of their sports. because a summer
afternoon is like a long lifetime to the young. So they came into the
room together, anti clustered round Grandfather's great chair. Little
Alice, who was hardly five years old, took the privilege of the
youngest, and climbed his knee. It was a pleasant thing to behold that
fair and golden-haired child in the lap of the old man, and to think
that, different as they were, the hearts of both could be gladdened with
the same joys.

"Grandfather," said little Alice, laying her head back upon his arm, "I
am very tired now. You must tell me a story to make me go to sleep."

"That is not what story-tellers like," answered Grandfather, smiling.
"They are better satisfied when they can keep their auditors awake."