t.

"My dear little Songbird,"--this is a name they gave to me from my
infancy, for they say I could sing before I could speak,--"My dear
little Songbird," thus the letter began, "All the world is coming to
London this spring to see the most wonderful of sights; try and persuade
my dear sister, that kind Mamma of yours, to let you pay your
long-promised visit to me. You must come in May, and you may stay with
me as long as you can bear to be away from your delightful home. Let me
know when I may expect you.

"Your loving Aunt,
"JENNY GOLDFINCH."

And I remember that the envelope was addressed, "Lady Linnet, Gorse
Bush, Somersetshire;" and that in the left-hand corner there was
written, "For Miss Linnet."

Did not I fly to my "kind Mamma" as soon as I had read this note, and
when she had consented that I should go to see that dear old Aunt of
mine in London, did not I half smother her with kisses. I thought the
first of May would never come,--but it did; and Tom-tit was sent to
London with me by the railway to take care of me.

My good Aunt received me with the greatest kindness, and her son
Drinkwater, one of the handsomest young fellows I ever saw in my life,
began whispering compliments to me as soon as ever we were left
together. I had a lovely little boudoir entirely for my own use, and my
page Tom-tit had nothing else to do but wait on me. My cousin
Drinkwater and I were soon great friends; he took me to the Opera,
where I listened to singing such as I had never heard at Gorse Bush; he
took me to the Chiswick Fete, where I saw flowers such as I had never
dreamed of; and he took me--how many times? well, I can't recollect--to
that dear, delightful Crystal Palace, where we visited more foreign
countries than I knew of in my Geography, and where we often found
ourselves quite alone, looking at those charming seeds from the West
India Islands; and where we enjoyed some of the most delightful days of
all our lives,--at least, Drinkwater said so; and I think I must say so
too.

Every one has been to the Crystal Palace, so it is of no use talking
about the Koh-i-noor, or the fierce-looking Amazon, or the beautiful
Veiled Vestal, or the Greek Slave, or those terrible-looking owls or
funny foxes, or the other Comical Creatures that came from Wurtemberg. I
will, therefore, tell you how we amused ourselves when we were not