you can't," answered their sister, Kitty, sharply. "You'd be
tumbling down and getting frightened, and all sorts of things. You'd
better run right home by yourselves."

The little ones were silent, but they looked anxiously at Eyebright.

"I think they might come, Kitty," she said. "They're almost always
good, and there's nothing in the loft to hurt them. Yes; they can
come."

"Oh, very well, if you want the bother of them. I'm sure I don't
mind," replied Kitty.

Then they all ran into the barn. The eight pairs of double-soled boots
clattered on the stairs like a sudden hail-storm on a roof. Brindle,
old Charley, and a strange horse who seemed to be visiting them, who
were munching their evening hay, raised their heads, astonished; while
a furtive rustle from some dim corner in the loft showed that Mrs.
Top-knot or Mrs. Cochin-China, hidden away there, heard too, and did
not like the sound at all.

"Oh, isn't this lovely!" cried Kitty Bury, kicking the fine hay before
her till it rose in clouds. "Barns are so nice, I think."

"Yes, but don't kick that way," said Romaine Smith, choking and
sneezing. "Oh dear, I shall smother. Eyebright, please open the
window. Quick, I am strangling."

Eyebright, who was sneezing too, made haste to undo the rusty hook,
and swing the big wooden shutter back against the outside wall of the
barn. It made an enormous square opening, which seemed to let in all
out-doors at once. Dark places grew light, the soft pure air, glad of
the chance, flew in to mix with the sweet, heavy smell of the dried
grasses; it was as good as being out-doors, as Eyebright had said.

The girls pulled little heaps of hay together for seats, and ranged
themselves in a half-circle round the window, with Mr. Bright's
orchard, pink and white with fruit blossoms, underneath them; and
beyond that, between Mr. Bury's house and barn, a glimpse of valley
and blue river, and the long range of wooded hills on the opposite
bank. It was a charming out-look, and though the children could not
have put into words what pleased them, they all liked it, and were the
happier for its being there.

"Now we're ready. Who will tell the first story?" asked Molly Prime,
briskly.

"I'll tell the first," said Eyebright, always ready to take the lead.
"It's a splendid story. I read it in a book. Once upon a time, long,
long ago, there was a little tailor, who was very good, and his name
was Hans. He lived all alone in his little