.

She stared at him in a great fright, and looked so amazed that every one
enjoyed that joke better than the other; and poor Poppy didn't hear the
last of it for a long time.

Her next performance was to fall into the pond on the Common. She was
driving hoop down the hill, and went so fast she couldn't stop herself;
so splashed into the water, hoop and all. How dreadful it was to feel
the cold waves go over her head, shutting out the sun and air! The
ground was gone, and she could find no place for her feet, and could
only struggle and choke, and go down, down, with a loud roaring sound in
her ears. That would have been the end of Poppy, if a little black boy
hadn't jumped in and pulled her out. She was sick and dizzy, and looked
like a drowned kitten; but a kind lady took her home in a carriage.
After that mishap grandpa thought he wouldn't keep her any longer, for
fear she should come to some worse harm. So Miss Poppy was sent home,
much to her delight and much to mamma's also; for no matter where she
went, or how naughty she was, mamma was always glad to see the little
wanderer back, and to forgive and forget all Poppy's pranks.

VII.

WHAT THE SWALLOWS DID.

A man lay on a pile of new-made hay, in a great barn, looking up at the
swallows who darted and twittered above him. He envied the cheerful
little creatures; for he wasn't a happy man, though he had many friends,
much money, and the beautiful gift of writing songs that everybody loved
to sing. He had lost his wife and little child, and would not be
comforted; but lived alone, and went about with such a gloomy face that
no one liked to speak to him. He took no notice of friends and
neighbors; neither used his money for himself nor others; found no
beauty in the world, no happiness anywhere; and wrote such sad songs it
made one's heart ache to sing them.

As he lay alone on the sweet-smelling hay, with the afternoon sunshine
streaming in, and the busy birds chirping overhead, he said sadly to
himself:

"Happy swallows, I wish I were one of you; for you have no pains nor
sorrows, and your cares are very light. All summer you live gayly
together; and, when winter comes, you fly away to the lovely South,
unseparated still."

"Neighbors, do you hear what that lazy creature down there is saying?"
cried a swallow, peeping over the edge of her nest, and addressing
several others who sat on a beam near by.

"We hear, Mrs. Skim; and quite agree with yo