uch nice ones in the wood."

But it was no use thinking about woods or strawberries, and when Mrs.
Norton came into the children's room just as they were finishing
breakfast, she found a pair of dull little faces staring out at the
rain, as if looking at it would make it stop.

"Nasty rain," said Olly, climbing up on his mother's knee. "Go to Spain.
I don't want you to come and spoil my nicey time."

"I am afraid scolding the rain won't make it go away," said his mother,
smiling into his brown face as he knelt on her lap, with his arms round
her neck. "Now what are we going to do to-day?"

"I don't know," said Milly, sitting down opposite her mother, and
resting her face gravely on her hands. "Well, we brought _some_ toys,
you know, mother. Olly's got his top; I can help him spin it, and I can
play with Katie a bit."

"That won't take very long," said Mrs. Norton. "Suppose we do some
lessons first of all."

"Oh, mother, lessons!" said Milly, in a very doubtful voice.

"It's holidays, mother, it's holidays," cried Olly. "I don't like
lessons--not a bit."

"Well, but, Olly, think a bit; you can't spin your top and look at
picture-books all day, and I'm afraid it's going to rain all day--it
looks very like it. If you come and do some reading and counting with me
this morning, I can give you some spills to make, or some letters to
tear up for me afterwards. That will save the toys for this afternoon;
and some time this afternoon, if it doesn't stop raining, we'll all
have a romp. And as for you, Milly, don't you think it's quite time
Katie had a new frock? I believe I can find a beautiful bit of blue silk
in my bag, and I'm sure nurse will show you how to make it."

Milly's face brightened up very much at this, and the two children went
skipping upstairs to the drawing-room after their mother, in very fair
spirits again. Olly did some reading, while Milly wrote in her copybook,
and then Olly had his counting-slate and tried to find out what 6 and 4
made, and 5 and 3, and other little sums of the same kind. He yawned a
good deal over his reading, and was quite sure several times that h-a-y
spelt "ham," and s-a-w spelt "was," but still, on the whole, he got
through very well. Milly wrote her copy, then she learnt some verses of
a poem called "Lucy Gray," and last of all mother found her a big map of
Westmoreland, the county in which the mountains are, and they had a most
delightful geography lesson. Mother pretended