They had now left the woods and were going toward the timothy meadow to
get the painted cups. Donald was right. One corner of the meadow was
bright with the vivid red patches.

The sun was setting when they reached home. As they passed the woodpile
in the back yard Donald said:

"I wonder how old that wood is! I'm going to see if I can count the
rings."

"Show them to me, Donald," said Susie. "I never saw them."

Just then the clear, rich song of a bird rang out from the top of a tree
on the edge of the woods.

"Hark!" said Mr. Leonard. "That is the thrush."

They listened until the song was ended.

"What a lovely walk we have had!" said Susie. "I'm not a bit tired. Are
you, mother?"

"Well, a little," said Mrs. Leonard, "but we never had a more delightful
afternoon. Thank you, dear," as Frank brought an easy-chair from the
house to the porch for her. "Now I shall be rested in a few minutes."

"Let me put your flowers in water with mine, mother," said Susie.

"Tell Jane to bring our supper out here," said Mrs. Leonard. "It is too
pleasant to go in the house."