under a big tree by the riverside, and two birds, holding
what was evidently a very important conversation, above in
the branches, their heads on one side, eyeing the sleeping
child. Then there was a picture of the birds flying up to
the child with twigs and straw in their beaks, preparing to
build their nest in her hair. Next came the awakening, with
the nest completed, and the mother-bird sitting on it; while
the father-bird flew round the frightened child. And then,
lastly, hundreds of birds--the air thick with them--the
child fleeing, small boys with tin trumpets raised to their
lips to add to the confusion, and Mary, armed with a basket
of brushes and combs, bringing up the rear! After this,
whenever I was restive while my hair was being arranged,
Mary would show me the picture of the child with the nest on
her head, and I at once became "as quiet as a lamb."

I had a daily governess, a dear old soul, who used to come
every morning to teach me. I disliked particularly the
large-lettered copies which she used to set me; and as I
confided this to Mr. Dodgson, he came and gave me some
copies himself. The only ones which I can remember were
"Patience and water-gruel cure gout" (I always wondered what
"gout" might be) and "Little girls should be seen and not
heard" (which I thought unkind). These were written many
times over, and I had to present the pages to him, without
one blot or smudge, at the end of the week.

One of the Fellows of Magdalen College at that time was a
Mr. Saul, a friend of my father's and of Mr. Dodgson, and a
great lover of music--his rooms were full of musical
instruments of every sort. Mr. Dodgson and father and I all
went one afternoon to pay him a visit. At that time he was
much interested in the big drum, and we found him when we
arrived in full practice, with his music-book open before
him. He made us all join in the concert. Father undertook
the 'cello, and Mr. Dodgson hunted up a comb and some paper,
and, amidst much fun and laughter, the walls echoed with the
finished roll, or shake, of the big drum--a roll that was
Mr. Saul's delight.

My father died on August 27, 1897, and Mr. Dodgson on
January 14, 1898. And we, who are left behind in this cold,
weary world can only hope we may some day meet them again.
Till then, oh!