salt, with
waistcoat of canary colour, and nether garments of iron-grey; besides
these glories, he shone in the lustre of a new pair of boots and an
extremely stiff and shiny hat. And in this attire, rather wondering that
he attracted so little attention, he made his way towards Abel Cottage.

It was a beautiful little cottage, with a thatched roof and little spires
at the gable-ends, and pieces of stained glass in some of the windows. On
one side of the house was a little stable, just the size for the pony,
with a little room over it, just the size for Kit. White curtains were
fluttering, and birds in cages were singing at the windows; plants were
arranged on either side of the path, and clustered about the door; and the
garden was bright with flowers in full bloom, which shed a sweet odour all
around.

Everything within the house and without seemed to be the perfection of
neatness and order. Kit looked about him, and admired, and looked again,
before he could make up his mind to turn his head and ring the bell.

He rung the bell a great many times, and yet nobody came. But at last, as
he was sitting upon the box thinking about giants' castles, and princesses
tied up to pegs by the hair of their heads, and dragons bursting out from
behind gates, and other incidents of a like nature, common in story-books
to youths on their first visit to strange houses, the door was gently
opened, and a little servant-girl, very tidy, modest, and pretty,
appeared.

"I suppose you're Christopher, sir?" said the servant-girl.

Kit got off the box, and said yes, he was, and was ushered in.

The old gentleman received him very kindly, and so did the old lady, whose
previous good opinion of him was greatly enhanced by his wiping his boots
on the mat. He was then taken into the parlour to be inspected in his new
clothes; and then was shown the garden and his little room, and when the
old gentleman had said all he had to say in the way of promise and advice,
and Kit had said all he had to say in the way of assurance and
thankfulness, he was handed over again to the old lady, who, summoning the
little servant-girl (whose name was Barbara), instructed her to take him
downstairs and give him something to eat and drink after his walk.

From that time Kit's was a useful, pleasant life, moving on in a peaceful
routine of duties and innocent joys from day to day, and from week to
week,--until the great, longed-for epoch of his life arrived--th