o on marched Hoodie undisturbed. A little on this
side of farmer Bright's a lane turned off to the left. This lane, Hoodie
decided, must be the way to the wood, so she left the road and went
along the lane for about a quarter of a mile, till, to her perplexity,
it ended in a sort of little croft with a stile at each side. Hoodie
climbed up both stiles in turns and looked about her. The wood was not
to be seen from either, but across a field from the second stile she saw
the tops of some trees standing on lower ground.

"That must be the wood," thought Hoodie, and down she clambered again to
fetch her basket which she had left on the other side. With some
difficulty she hoisted it and herself up again, with greater difficulty
got it and herself down the steps on the further side, and then set off
triumphantly at a run in the direction of the trees she had seen.

So far she was right. These trees were the beginning of a wood--a pretty
little wood with a tiny stream running through the middle, and little
nests of ferns and mosses in among the stones and tree-stumps on its
banks--a very pretty little wood it must be in summer-time with the
trees more fully out and the ground dry and crisp, and clear of the last
year's leaves which still gave it a desolate appearance. Hoodie's
spirits rose. She was getting on famously. Soon she might expect to see
the grandmother's cottage, where no doubt the kettle would be boiling on
the fire to make tea for her, and the table all nicely spread. For
already she was beginning to feel hungry; she had journeyed, it seemed
to her, a very long way, and more than once she eyed her basket
wistfully, wondering if she might eat just one piece of the
bread-and-butter.

"The little Hoodie-girl in the picture didn't, and Martin didn't," she
said to herself. "So I 'appose I'd better not. And perhaps if the woofs
saw me eating, it would make them come."

The idea made her shiver.

"But Maudie said there was no woofs," she added. "Maudie said there
wasn't no woofs. But I _wish_ I could see the cottage."

On and on she made her way,--here and there with really great
difficulty, for there was no proper path, and sometimes the big
tree-stumps were almost higher than her fat, rather short legs could
either stride across or climb over. More than once she scratched these
same bare legs pretty badly, and but for the resolution which was a
strong part of her character, the queer little girl would have sat