o, while she sleeps so quietly,
and gather a dish of the crimson berries she loves so well, for her
breakfast; they will be nice with a dish of old Crummie's sweet milk;"
and, pinning a green blanket over her head, the old woman went forth on
her errand.

Meantime the child awoke, and, seeing the sunbeams stealing through the
net-work of vines, and streaming so warm and bright over the rough,
stone floor, started quickly from her couch, and, robing herself in a
pink muslin frock, issued from her room, carolling a happy morning song.
She sat down on a bench before the door of the cottage, and in a few
moments her aunt appeared, bearing in one hand a white bowl filled with
purple berries, and in the other a bucket of milk, all warm and frothing
to the brim.

"O, then you are up, hinny!" she said, on seeing the child; "just look
at what aunty has got for your breakfast. Now, you come in and pick over
the berries with your little, nice, quick fingers, and I'll spread the
table, strain the milk, and bake a bit of oaten cake, and we'll have a
meal fit for a king."

The child obeyed readily, and soon the humble tenants of the rocky
cottage were seated at their simple repast.

"I've some good news to tell you, Annie," said the woman, as she cut
open a light, oaten cake, and spread a slice of rich, yellow butter over
its smoking surface.

"What is it, aunty?" asked the child.

"There was two gentlemen here last night, after you fell asleep on my
bed here, and they gave me lots o' siller for reading their fortunes.
I've got it all here in the leather bag for you, hinny; 'twill buy
plenty of gay ribbons to tie your pretty hair."

"O, I would not use it for that, aunty!" said Annie, quickly.

"What then, child?"

"For something useful."

"And what so useful as to make my Annie look gayest of all the village
lasses?"

"Why, that's no use at all, aunty; I shan't have one more pretty thought
in my head for having a gay ribbon on my hair. Use it, aunty, please, to
buy me some new books, so I can enter the highest class in school when
George Wild does. Mr. Grey says I can read and cipher as well as he,
though I am not so old by two years."

"Well, well, hinny, it shall be as you wish; just like your father,--all
for books and learning,--though your mother leaned that way too. Yes, of
all our family she was always called the lady; and lady she was, indeed,
as fine as the richest of them; but poverty, Annie,--O, 'tis a sad