ably upon a central seat, and evidently
quite ready for the train to start.

"Would you go away without saying good-bye to your father and to Mary?"
asked Mr. Lloyd, in a deeply reproachful tone.

Bert blushed violently on being thus reminded of his apparent
selfishness and, with the threat of a tear in his eye, was about to
make some sort of a defence, when his father put him all right again by
saying brightly:

"Never mind, my boy. It isn't every day you go off on a
hundred-and-fifty-miles' journey. Mary and I will forgive you for
forgetting us this time, won't we, Mary?"

The lunch basket, the wraps, and their other belongings were placed on
the seat, the engine whistled, "all aboard," the bell rang, the
conductor shouted, affectionate farewells were hastily exchanged, and
presently the train rolled noisily out of the dark station into the
bright sunshine; and Bert, leaning from the window, caught a last
glimpse of his father and sister as they stood waving the handkerchiefs
which one of them, at least, could not refrain from putting to another
use, as the last car swept round the turn and vanished.

But Bert was in no mood for tears. In fact, he never felt less like
anything of the kind. He felt much more disposed to shout aloud for very
joy, and probably would have done so, but for the restraining influence
exercised by the presence of the other passengers, of whom there were a
good many in the carriage. As it was, he gave vent to his excited
feelings by being as restless as a mosquito, and asking his mother as
many questions as his active brain could invent.

"You'll be tired out by mid-day, Bert, if you go on at this rate," said
his mother, in gentle warning.

"Oh, no, I won't, mother; I won't get tired. See! What's that funny big
thing with the long legs in that field?"

"That's a frame for a hay stack, I think. You'll see plenty of those at
grandfather's."

"And what's that queer thing with arms sticking out from that building?"

"That's a wind-mill. When the wind blows hard those arms go round, and
turn machinery inside the barn."

"And has grandpapa got a wind-mill, mother?"

"Yes; he has one on his big barn."

"Oh, I'm so glad; I can watch it going round, and stand quite close,
can't I?"

"Yes, but take care not to go too close to the machinery. It might hurt
you very much, you know."

And so it went on all through the morning. Mrs. Lloyd would have liked
very much to read a little in an