lections of wild flowers or shells. A
little time ago I saw a charming book of dried flowers, collected by a set
of children just out of a kindergarten. Each flower had a page to itself,
with its name neatly written, and any extra local names which it happened
to possess. On the opposite page was written any verses of poetry that the
children could find about it; and I was quite surprised to see what a good
collection they had of bits from Tennyson and Shakespeare and Wordsworth,
etc. Of course, the older sisters and the mothers must have helped them in
this part, but such a book, made in the holidays, would be the work of
the whole family, so you would have plenty of help; and you will notice
that the poetical part of it is a special attraction to me, as it affords
exercise to my own hobby both in reading and in verifying quotations.

I think I had better here give you warning that when you come back next
term every one will have to write an essay, describing some one place they
have been to during the holidays. I tell you now, that you may try to find
out all you can of the real interest of the place; its historical, or
legendary, or literary associations, or its flowers, or shells, or
fossils.

There is one other point of holiday-making on which I should like to talk
to you. Some of you may have read Charles Lamb's amusing essay on "Popular
Fallacies;" I suppose every one could add to his list from their own
experience of life. One of the popular fallacies I should like to combat
is, that "holidays are 'the children's hour;'" though I quite allow that,
like most popular fallacies, it has many grains of truth in it. The little
victims consider that conscientious application to grammar and history
deserves a compensating course of lying in bed in the morning, sitting up
late at night, and general indulgence, with every right-minded member of
the household waiting upon them, and making plans for their amusement.
Now, I quite see their side of the question. It is not pleasant, day
after day, to go on steadily with work, which you do not happen to care
for; to be cut off from this or that expedition, because lessons
interfere; to have to get up early every morning; to lose this or that
visit;--and, therefore, I hope your holidays may be full of fun, and that
you may be richly rewarded for any struggles you may have made during the
term.

But there is another side of it all, and _term-time_ is "the children's
hour," from