inue the narratives for the future in the order in which
they followed, without mentioning any of the interruptions which
occurred from the asking of questions, or from any other cause,
unless materially connected with the stories. I shall also leave
out the apologies with which you severally thought fit to preface
your stories of yourselves, though they were very seasonable in
their place, and proceeded from a proper diffidence, because I
must not swell my work to too large a size.

II

LOUISA MANNERS

(_By Mary Lamb_)

My name is Louisa Manners; I was seven years of age last birthday,
which was on the first of May. I remember only four birthdays. The day
I was four years old is the first that I recollect. On the morning
of that day, as soon as I awoke, I crept into mamma's bed, and said,
"Open your eyes, mamma, for it is my birthday. Open your eyes, and
look at me!" Then mamma told me I should ride in a post chaise,
and see my grandmamma and my sister Sarah. Grandmamma lived at a
farm-house in the country, and I had never in all my life been out of
London; no, nor had I ever seen a bit of green grass, except in the
Drapers' garden, which is near my papa's house in Broad-street; nor
had I ever rode in a carriage before that happy birthday.

I ran about the house talking of where I was going, and rejoicing so
that it was my birthday, that when I got into the chaise I was tired
and fell asleep.

When I awoke, I saw the green fields on both sides of the chaise, and
the fields were full, quite full, of bright shining yellow flowers,
and sheep and young lambs were feeding in them. I jumped, and clapped
my hands together for joy, and I cried out This is

"Abroad in the meadows to see the young lambs,"

for I knew many of Watts's hymns by heart.

The trees and hedges seemed to fly swiftly by us, and one field, and
the sheep, and the young lambs, passed away; and then another field
came, and that was full of cows; and then another field, and all the
pretty sheep returned, and there was no end of these charming sights
till we came quite to grandmamma's house, which stood all alone by
itself, no house to be seen at all near it.

Grandmamma was very glad to see me, and she was very sorry that I did
not remember her, though I had been so fond of her when she was in
town but a few months before. I was quite ashamed of my bad memory.
My sister Sarah shewed me all the beautiful place