o!
O'er hills, dales and rocks,
Away be it whirled,
Till the silvery locks
Are all combed and curled."

This made her laugh so that she tumbled into a clover-bed, and lay there
a minute to get her breath. Just then, as if the playful wind
repented of its frolic, the long veil fastened to the hat caught in a
blackberry-vine near by, and held the truant fast till Marjorie secured
it.

"Now come and see what I am doing," said the lady, when she had thanked
the child.

Marjorie drew near confidingly, and looked down at the wide-spread book
before her. She gave a start, and laughed out with surprise and delight;
for there was a lovely picture of her own little home, and her own
little self on the door-step, all so delicate, and beautiful, and true,
it seemed as if done by magic.

"Oh, how pretty! There is Rover, and Kitty and the robins, and me! How
could you ever do it, ma'am?" said Marjorie, with a wondering glance
at the long paint-brush, which had wrought what seemed a miracle to her
childish eyes.

"I'll show you presently; but tell me, first, if it looks quite right
and natural to you. Children sometimes spy out faults that no one else
can see," answered the lady, evidently pleased with the artless praise
her work received.

"It looks just like our house, only more beautiful. Perhaps that is
because I know how shabby it really is. That moss looks lovely on the
shingles, but the roof leaks. The porch is broken, only the roses hide
the place; and my gown is all faded, though it once was as bright as you
have made it. I wish the house and everything would stay pretty forever,
as they will in the picture."

While Marjorie spoke, the lady had been adding more color to the sketch,
and when she looked up, something warmer and brighter than sunshine
shone in her face, as she said, so cheerily, it was like a bird's song
to hear her,--

"It can't be summer always, dear, but we can make fair weather for
ourselves if we try. The moss, the roses, and soft shadows show the
little house and the little girl at their best, and that is what we all
should do; for it is amazing how lovely common things become, if one
only knows how to look at them."

"I wish _I_ did," said Marjorie, half to herself, remembering how often
she was discontented, and how hard it was to get on, sometimes.

"So do I," said the lady, in her happy voice. "Just believe that there
is a sunny side to everything, and try