the table to look at them.

"Cowslip-tea," was No. 4's answer, laying her hand on the fat pink
tea-pot; and thereupon the laughing explosion went off nearly as
loudly as before, though for no accountable reason that Aunt Judy
could divine.

"It's SO good, Aunt Judy, do taste it!" exclaimed No. 8, jumping up
in a great fuss, and holding up his little cup, full of a pale-buff
fluid, to Aunt Judy.

"You'll have everything over," cried No. 4, calling him to order; and
in truth the table was not the steadiest in the world.

So No. 8 sat down again, calling out, in an almost stuttering hurry,
"You may keep it all, Aunt Judy, I don't want any more."

But neither did Aunt Judy, after she had given it one taste; so she
put the cup down, thanking No. 8 very much, but pulling such a funny
face, that it set the laugh going once more; in the middle of which
No. 4 dropped an additional lump of sugar into the rejected buff-
coloured mixture, a proceeding which evidently gave No. 8 a new
relish for the beverage.

Aunt Judy had got beyond the age when cowslip-tea was looked upon as
one of the treats of life; and she had not, on the other hand, lived
long enough to love the taste of it for the memory's sake of the
enjoyment it once afforded.

Not but what we are obliged to admit that cowslip-tea is one of those