ge laburnum-tree. Behind it was a very substantial
bay-bush. The two were planted at a corner of the house, with the
intention probably of cutting off a view of the kitchen windows from
the front. But the children had elevated them into a far higher
position than that of a mere screen. The laburnum-tree represented
their parliament-house. In it, or under it, as the case might be, they
played most of their games, told most of their stories, originated most
of their schemes.

It was to this refuge that John fled when threatened with lessons. It
was so conveniently near the schoolroom, that he could easily hear
through the open window when lessons were over; for since he had gone
out Miss Thompson had not punished the girls by making them sit behind
a closed window and drawn blind. Besides, Madge and Betty were sure to
join him under the laburnum-tree directly they were released. In the
meantime John enjoyed the unwonted luxury of a choice of seats.

There was only one drawback to the laburnum. It was really such a nice
tree that one hardly likes to mention this one fault, but if the
children could have suggested any sort of improvement, it would have
been a little more sitting accommodation in the boughs. Try as they
would they could never, all three, get up in it at once. And John was
usually the one left out. This was the way it happened. Madge, being
two years older than the twins, and much larger, naturally always
seized the highest and most commodious place. Then Betty, lightly
observing, "Ladies before gentlemen," would creep into a narrow little
fork between two branches at her sister's feet. And all that remained
for John was a yard of slippery polished stem, on which nothing but a
fly could have sat.

John grumbled--it was one of the things he did best, according to his
sisters. "Practice makes perfect," Betty used to say, alluding to this
habit of his. She was fond of proverbs, and introduced them into her
conversation with more aptness than consideration for the feelings of
others. But really about this matter of seats it did seem a little
hard on John to have always to crouch in the bay-bush, while his
sisters looked down on him from their lofty thrones,--even Betty's
boots on a level with his head. Of course, they daily pointed out to
him that the crushed bay leaves gave out a delicious smell. This was
quite true, but it in no way removed the original grievance. One may
have too much e