wonderful thing. She counted and skipped, and
skipped and counted, until her cheeks were quite red, and she was more
interested than she had ever been since she was born. The sun was
shining and a little wind was blowing--not a rough wind, but one which
came in delightful little gusts and brought a fresh scent of newly
turned earth with it. She skipped round the fountain garden, and up one
walk and down another. She skipped at last into the kitchen-garden and
saw Ben Weatherstaff digging and talking to his robin, which was hopping
about him. She skipped down the walk toward him and he lifted his head
and looked at her with a curious expression. She had wondered if he
would notice her. She really wanted him to see her skip.

"Well!" he exclaimed. "Upon my word! P'raps tha' art a young 'un, after
all, an' p'raps tha's got child's blood in thy veins instead of sour
buttermilk. Tha's skipped red into thy cheeks as sure as my name's Ben
Weatherstaff. I wouldn't have believed tha' could do it."

"I never skipped before," Mary said. "I'm just beginning. I can only go
up to twenty."

"Tha' keep on," said Ben. "Tha' shapes well enough at it for a young 'un
that's lived with heathen. Just see how he's watchin' thee," jerking his
head toward the robin. "He followed after thee yesterday. He'll be at
it again to-day. He'll be bound to find out what th' skippin'-rope is.
He's never seen one. Eh!" shaking his head at the bird, "tha' curosity
will be th' death of thee sometime if tha' doesn't look sharp."

Mary skipped round all the gardens and round the orchard, resting every
few minutes. At length she went to her own special walk and made up her
mind to try if she could skip the whole length of it. It was a good long
skip and she began slowly, but before she had gone half-way down the
path she was so hot and breathless that she was obliged to stop. She did
not mind much, because she had already counted up to thirty. She stopped
with a little laugh of pleasure, and there, lo and behold, was the robin
swaying on a long branch of ivy. He had followed her and he greeted her
with a chirp. As Mary had skipped toward him she felt something heavy in
her pocket strike against her at each jump, and when she saw the robin
she laughed again.

"You showed me where the key was yesterday," she said. "You ought to
show me the door to-day; but I don't believe you know!"

The robin flew from his swinging spray of ivy on to the top of the wall
a