home," said Polly.

"Dickey Downy wouldn't know a lady-bird from a grasshopper," answered
Nancy teasingly.

Polly retorted, "Don't be too sure! Dickey is a very intelligent bird,
a very extraordinary bird."

She contented herself with paying me compliments, for instead of
bringing the crimson beetle into the store she opened the window and
let him fly away.

"Well, I'm glad I have learned something new about ladybirds," remarked
Louise, as she tied her hat strings ready to go home.

"And I too," chimed in Nancy. "I am glad the Australians prize the
pretty little creatures. It's nice to be useful and handsome too."

Then both girls said good-bye and ran home.

A few days later Polly announced to Miss Kathy that she was ready to
read the long promised tale.

"Mother says you will be in the back room sewing this afternoon, so I
will bring my little rocker and sit here and read to you. My book is
full of beautiful stories about children and birds and bees."

I too anticipated a pleasant afternoon, for my cage still hung within
the doorway where I could hear and see all that took place in both
apartments. Soon after dinner Miss Kathy appeared in the back room
with her thimble and scissors and seated herself at the work-table.
Polly drew up her chair beside her. The book she held was a pretty
little affair bound in red with a silver inscription on the covers, and
after being duly admired by both, Polly opened it and selected the
following story, which she read aloud:

THE MOUNT AIRY SCHOOL.

The breath of blossoms was in the air and spicy scents from the woods
that lined the lane on each side came floating to the delighted senses
of a little girl who drove slowly along the road leading to Mount Airy
School.

Young horses frisked in the pastures or came whinnying to the fence as
she passed. Lazy cows cropped the grass at the sides of the road,
pushing their heads into the zigzag corners of the rail fence in
pursuit of the tender clover that had crept through from the thrifty
meadows.

The school was a little brick structure standing back a short distance
from the road, with a playground on each side as enchantingly beautiful
as it was novel to Alice Glenn, the little girl who had come from town
by invitation of the teacher to visit the school. Accustomed to the
severer discipline of the graded school of which she was a member, the
unconventional ways of these children amused the young visitor gre