er of which two girls
were playing at battledore and shuttlecock, and very well they played
too. A little nearer this way, that is where John and the carriage
stood, in the direction of the house, was a young child seated on the
turf holding a dog, whilst two other children were trying to make it
jump to catch a flower, one held in her hand. There was also a big boy
on a pony talking to a great girl, who was lying on the grass; but the
prettiest group of girls were standing or kneeling round a pet lamb
which they were decking with wreaths of flowers. They none of them wore
bonnets nor walking dresses, and even the boy on the pony was without a
hat. Why they had all agreed to uncover their heads, I cannot say
exactly, but I know they had been having some joke about it before the
young Mortimers arrived; and the great girl on the turf had even then
got her brother's cap and had hidden it somewhere, and it was to ask her
about it he had ridden up to her on his pony, as she rested on the
grass.

[Illustration]

"Oh! they are all girls but one," exclaimed Marten in a disappointed
tone, "and I am afraid I shall not find the boys easily, and I hate
playing with girls."

"As much as we girls dislike playing with rude boys, master Mortimer,"
said Jane Roscoe, advancing forwards and replying to Marten's speech,
which had really been addressed to John; "but understand we are the
fairies of this lawn--this is our territory, and my aunt Jameson has
bestowed it upon us. We take tribute if you intrude on our premises, so
either be off to your own mates, or lay down your cap as owning our sway
as ladies and queens of the lawn."

"I am sure I would rather go to your brother, or Edward, Miss Roscoe,"
replied Marten, "if you would but tell me where I should find them."

"No doubt near the stables, or at the dog kennels," she answered pertly,
"so you had better go, for I tell you we don't want boys amongst us; we
have had some trouble in ridding ourselves of them just now."

"And if they are all like you, I am sure I for one don't want to stay,"
thought Marten; and he took Reuben's hand to seek his friends, where the
young lady had so uncourteously directed him to find them.

And here, before I would follow Marten to find his young friends, I
would wish to remark that it is such girls as Jane Roscoe who make rude
boys, and such young women that make rude men. Boys and men generally
take their manners from the females with whom they