thing
to be poor!"

"We are not poor, aunty," said the child, pouring the sweet milk over
her berries; "only see what nice things we have! this rich milk old
Crummie gives us, and this golden butter, and these light, sweet cakes!
O, aunty! if you would only--only"--and she paused.

"Only what, child?" asked the fond old woman.

"But you won't be angry if I say it?" said the child, a conscious blush
suffusing her lovely features.

"Angry with my darling! no."

"Only not tell any more fortunes, aunty; then we should be so happy."

"Not tell any more fortunes! What ails the child? Why, that's the way
half our living comes; and an easy way to earn it, too; much easier than
to sit and spin on the little linen wheel from morning till night."

"Easier, but not so honorable, is it, aunty?"

"Honorable! Yes, child; what put it into your pretty, curly head that it
was not honorable to read future events and take fees for it?"

"Why, sometimes the girls and boys at school laugh and scorn at me, and
call me the old witch's brat, or the young Scraggiewood seeress, or some
such name," said the child, in a tone of sorrowful regret; "and I've
often wished you would not tell fortunes any more. Learn me how to use
the small wheel, aunty, and all the hours when I'm out of school, I'll
spin fast as I can. I know we could get a very good living without your
telling fortunes; don't you think so, aunty?"

"Why, child, I never thought a word about it," said the old woman,
gazing on the beautiful face upturned to hers, and grown so earnest in
its pleading.

"But you will think to-day, while I'm at school, won't you, aunty? I see
George coming for me, now;" and, moving her chair from the table, she
sprang for her satchel and sun-bonnet as her little play-fellow came
over the stile, calling her name.

"You must have on your shoes this morning, hinny," said her aunt; "there
was a heavy dew last night, and the path is wet."

"Yes," said George, "have them on, Annie, for I want you to go with me
by the brook to get some pretty eglantines I saw last night, nearly
bloomed; they are all out this morning, I know."

Annie was soon equipped, and, with a hearty blessing from Aunt Patty,
they took their way hand in hand toward the village school.

CHAPTER III.

"On sped the seasons, and the forest child
Was rounded to the symmetry of youth;
While o'er her features stole, serenely