p the fairies that no doubt live there hidden under the
ferns and mosses, so fairily fine and delicate.

"O Aunt Fanny!" cried the children, "do tell us about Idlewild and
dear little Edith, and Daisy, and Bailey Idlewild."

"That is not the name of the children, you monkeys," said Aunt Fanny,
laughing, "any more than you are Harry and Minnie Nightcap. It is the
fanciful, dreamily sweet name of the place; and the pure life and
neighborly love ever adorning and brightening that graceful and kindly
house-roof, make June sunshine all over the lovely place the year
round."

"Ah! how delightful it must be," cried the children; "do tell us, Aunt
Fanny, all about your visit."

"Well, to begin at the beginning, I went up to Cornwall upon some
business, and I staid all night at a house just this side of the
beautiful Idlewild Glen. In the evening I was invited to go to a
Sunday-school celebration; I was very glad to get this invitation,
because I love children so much. The services were all very
interesting, but the best thing of all was a most beautiful story
which was told, to prove the blessed effect of love upon the heart,
and how much better it was to govern by _love_, than by fear and
continual punishment."

"_We_ know that!" exclaimed the children, "that's the very way mother
governs us--don't you, mamma?" and they all had to give her a kiss
before they said, "Please go on, Aunt Fanny; do tell us the story."

"The teacher said it was true, every word of it, but I do not know
whether he got it out of a book, or whether it happened to some
children he knew; perhaps you have read it already."

"O dear! no, we haven't, I'm sure," said the children, "and if we
have, your way of telling it will make it new again. Come, Aunt Fanny,
tell the story."

"Well, then, here it is--Once on a time a good old farmer said to his
wife, 'Wife, you know poor neighbor Jones died a little while ago, and
his little son Johnny is left alone in the world. Suppose we take him?
One more will make very little difference. Shall we?'

"'O deary me! no,' said the wife, 'I wouldn't have him among our
children for any thing! Why, he's worse than a little heathen!'

"'So he is,' said the farmer, 'I'm a little afraid to try it
myself--that's a fact!'

"Now while the old farmer was talking, he was also busily engaged in
eating his dinner of pork and greens, and his children had kept their
ears open, and had heard all that was said.

"Presentl