me
narrow stairs into a bedroom with white curtains to the bed and windows,
and white walls.

After a good wash Little Me felt quite wide-awake, and very hungry, and
was glad to be taken down to tea.

It _was_ a delightful tea! There were tiny little loaves for each of the
children, home-made cakes with plenty of plums, and strawberries and
cream, and ducks' eggs. These the farmer's wife showed Little Me had
pretty pale green shells, instead of white or brown like the hens' eggs,
and Mrs. White promised to show the children some baby chickens and
ducklings the next day.

How Little Me _did_ sleep that night, to be sure! She never heard her
father and mother and Bob, her elder brother, arrive at all; and it was
eight o'clock before she woke the next morning, and found they had all
gone out and left Me in kind Mrs. White's care. Mrs. White took her to
feed the chickens--such dear little fluffy balls of yellow and white and
black down, and Mrs. White let Little Me feed them out of a saucer, and
some of them jumped over Me's hand, and were most friendly; and then
Mrs. White took her to a pretty pond, and showed her a beautiful duck
and nine baby ducks, not so fluffy and small as the chickens, but yet
very soft and clean-looking.

Bob was rather too grown up to play much with Little Me, and Tommy
always played with Jack, so that Little Me spent much of her time
wandering about by herself.

The pond where the duck and ducklings lived had a little waterfall at
one end, and then it became a little stream, and ran over pebbles under
a bridge, and wandered away into the fields with a border of
forget-me-nots.

Little Me was very fond of this stream, and one day Tommy persuaded her
to take off her shoes and socks and walk through the stream with him.
This was very delightful; but when they were just in the middle of the
stream there came in sight some cows, and a boy and man driving them.

Now, if there was one thing Little Me dreaded more than another it was
cows; and her ideas of propriety were greatly shocked at the idea of a
strange man and boy seeing her bare feet, so she raced back to her shoes
and socks, picked them up, and tumbled over a stile as fast as her
short, fat little legs could go, and hid behind a hedge, all out of
breath.

There poor Little Me crouched till she heard the last slow step of the
last cow plash through the stream, where some of them stopped to drink,
and the sound of voices died away over