Mousie was quiet as usual, and made no trouble, but I saw with
renewed hope that this excursion into the world awakened in her a
keen and natural interest. Ever since the project of country life
had been decided upon, her listless, weary look had been giving
place to one of greater animation. The hope of flowers and a garden
had fed her life like a deep, hidden spring.

To Merton I had given larger liberty, and had said: "It is not
necessary for you to stay with me all the time. Come and go on the
boat and wharf as you wish. Pick up what knowledge you can. All I
ask is that you will use good sense in keeping out of trouble and
danger."

I soon observed that he was making acquaintances here and there, and
asking questions which would go far to make good his loss of
schooling for a time. Finding out about what one sees is, in my
belief, one of the best ways of getting an education. The trouble
with most of us is that we accept what we see, without inquiry or
knowledge.

The children were much interested in scenes witnessed from the side
of the boat farthest from the wharf. Here in the enclosed water-
space were several kinds of craft, but the most curious in their
eyes was a group of canal boats--"queer travelling houses" Mousie
called them; for it was evident that each one had a family on board,
and the little entrance to the hidden cabin resembled a hole from
which men, women, and children came like rabbits out of a burrow.
Tough, hardy, barefooted children were everywhere. While we were
looking, one frowsy-headed little girl popped up from her burrow in