t to, and I've come to say good-bye. I've brought a
packet of tea for you; see that you keep it to yourself. Good-bye,
Mother."

"Good-evening, my daughter."

"I said good-bye. You don't hold with religion, do you?"

"I does not, so far, my daughter; though I think the young clergywoman
speaks very convincingly about it."

"Don't you think that there may be a better world, Mother, for them that
tries to do right, though things goes against them here?"

"I think there might very easily be a better world, my dear, but I never
was instructed about it."

"You don't believe in prayers, do you, Mother?"

"That I does not, my daughter. Christian said lots of 'em, and you sees
what it comes to."

"It's not unlucky to say 'GOD bless you,' is it, Mother? I
wanted you to say it before I go."

"No, my daughter, I doesn't object to that, for I regards it as an
old-fashioned compliment, more in the nature of good manners than of
holy words."

"GOD bless you, Mother."

"GOD bless you, my daughter."

Sybil turned round and walked steadily away. The last glimpse I had of
her was when she turned once more, and put the hair from her face to
look at the old woman: but the tinker-mother did not see her, for she
was muttering with her head upon her hands.

* * * * *

It was a remarkable summer--that summer when I had seven, and when we
took so much interest in our neighbours.

I make a point of never disturbing myself about the events of by-gone
seasons. At the same time, to rear a family of seven urchins is not a
thing done by hedgehog-parents every year, and the careers of that
family are very clearly impressed upon my memory.

Number one came to a sad end.

What on the face of the wood made him think of pheasants' eggs, I cannot
conceive. I'm sure I never said anything about them! It was whilst he
was scrambling along the edge of the covert, that he met the Fox, and
very properly rolled himself into a ball. The Fox's nose was as long as
his own, and he rolled my poor son over and over with it, till he
rolled him into the stream. The young urchins swim like fishes, but just
as he was scrambling to shore, the Fox caught him by the waistcoat and
killed him. I do hate slyness!

Numbers two and three were flitted. I told them so, but young people
will go their own way. They had excellent victuals.

Number four (my eldest daughter) settled very comfortably in life, and
had a family of thr