ers
through the air. It was such an afternoon as old people like to spend
listlessly watching the bees and the butterflies, and thinking of old
times; nor are they the only people who like June afternoons; their
children and their grandchildren in different fashion, make the most of
these long hours and never think them too long.

Old Benjy Robin was humming a psalm-tune as he sat in his chair upon the
front stoop of his son's house, where he always lived; he had moved away
a little from the open passage which led to the back of the house, to
avoid the draught of wind that passed gently through. It was a very
pleasant wind to younger folk, but Old Benjy was turned of eighty, and
not so warm in his blood as to like such cool currents. His cane stood
between his knees, over which was spread a large red silk handkerchief,
and his hands were folded before him; while his two thumbs slowly turned
round each other, sometimes one way, sometimes the other. Before him he
could see down the garden walk, with its trim rows of shrubbery, and
beyond farther on, the very lovely hills that closed in the lake of
Clearwater, the shore of which was but a little way off. John Robin,
his son, who owned the house and farm, owned also part of the lake, and
there was a path, leading from the other side of the road in front of
the house, down to the shore where the horses were taken to water and
where the farmer kept his boats. It was a beautiful view from the stoop,
especially when as now the white clouds were floating over the tops of
the hills.

It was so quiet and the air was so mild that old Benjy soon began to
feel sleepy; he took the red bandanna from his knees and threw it over
his head to keep the flies away from his face, and then settled himself
to sleep, while his thumbs continued to go slowly round and round as if
they were trying in vain to overtake one another. Old Juniper too, the
great Newfoundland dog that lay at his feet, gave up trying to catch the
flies that plagued him, and stretching himself out as much as he could,
drew in his tongue over his red gums, and also fell sound asleep
breathing very hard.

The only persons in the house this June afternoon were the old man,
Juniper the dog, and Yulee, and Bo, Robin, Benjy's grandchildren. Their
father and mother had gone out for the afternoon and would not be back
until after tea; the boys were at work at the other end of the farm, and
so the children had been left in care o