till we saw a great dark shadow
coming down the hill-side; and what do you suppose it was, Thanny?"
"Well I don't know, unless it was a great black bear, coming down to get
some of his grass for supper."

"Oh fie! No. What do you think it was, Nelly?"

"Wasn't it old Pan and Sylvanus, who were astonished to hear such a
noise in their woods?"

"No, you haven't got it right either. What do you say, Janie?"

"Well, I guess it was the shadows of evening, coming down the
hill-side."

"That's it--and we were very much surprised to find it so, for the time
had passed very quickly and pleasantly. We gathered up our things, and
started for home. But first we stopped under the old acorn-tree, and
sung 'a song to the oak, the brave old oak.' We didn't know the right
tune, and so we sung it to the air of 'there is nae luck about the
house.' It wasn't the music we cared so much about, as the beautiful
words, they were so pretty and appropriate.

"Well, we did not go into the woods much, after this, for we had a great
many other things to take up our minds. Charlie and I went to school,
and father needed Alfred to help him all the time.

"I have told you how we found the hollow and how much we enjoyed
ourselves there; now I will tell you what became of it."

"What became of it! Why! did it catch afire and burn up?"

"No."

"Did it blow away in a strong north wind?"

"No."

"Did it get filled up with dust and dry leaves, or did you forget the
way there, and never find it again? What _did_ become of it?"

"Well, let me tell you. It was one of those beautiful spring days--when
we feel that we cannot possibly stay at home, and our feet will run
away with us, in spite of ourselves--that the old spirit and desire for
rambling came over us once more, and away we started for the woods.
'Which way will you go?' said Alfred as we stopped at a place where two
roads led in different directions. 'Acorn Hollow,' was the answer of
all; and accordingly we went that way. But oh, wonder of wonders! How we
stood by the once loved spot, and stared at each other, and rubbed our
eyes, and looked again and again. Where were the beautiful trees that
grew so closely side by side, intermingling their foliage, and locking
their arms together like loving brothers and sisters? Where was the
'brave old oak,' that had stood there with his broad green arms
outstretched, and shook his myriad leaves whenever we came, as if he
loved us children, and