ad established her studio under the old apple-tree one warm
June day, and, running out to call her to lunch, I found she had gone
down in the garden, but I saw the cutest, prettiest sight! I beckoned
her to come softly. There, on her sketch-book, opened against the
tree, and on which was a half-finished painting of birds, hopped
around two brown sparrows, peeping and twittering as contentedly as
possible. It was too cunning! as though they had recognized their
portraits and felt at home.

"A tribute to your genius, Lou," said I. "Like the famous artist of
old, who painted cherries so naturally, the birds flew down and pecked
at the canvas."

"I fear I shall have to dispel the illusion, dear. I guess they were
more eager to pick up some cake crumbs I left than to admire my work."

Readers, you will be glad to know that the girls' work continued
successful, and that the "crusty old creditor" turned out a good
friend, from sheer admiration of their pluck and courage.

[Illustration: {TWO LITTLE BIRDS.}]

[Illustration: {CLIMBING ROSES.}]

IN THE WOODS.

Merryvale was not a very lively place for any one except a couple of
young colts, and as many calves, jumping around after their mothers.

The bees seemed to be making a good deal of fun for themselves, if
stinging us children amused them, and buzzing into every pretty,
bright flower, so that no one could pick it with safety.

The crows, too, collected in great gossiping parties, in the pines,
over on the shore of the pond, and they always seemed to be
congratulating themselves over something immensely satisfactory.

But we children, especially the girls, found it very dull after we had
seen the few sights of the farm. The boys were trying to hunt and
fish; but Lib and I talked that over, and we came to the conclusion,
after much laughing and many caustic remarks, that the only amusement
we had was, laughing at their failures.

We communicated that fact to them, but it didn't seem to make any
difference; off they went on the same fruitless hunt, and left us to
do what we might, to make ourselves happy.

The next day, Lib and Dora and I told them we would go into the woods
with them and see what the charm was. Lib was the eldest of us three,
and had read a great deal, and she said:

"May be we shall find the robbers' cave, and if we say, 'Open Sesame,'
the great stone doors will slowly swing open, and we can go in where
the chains of flashing gems and