Woodside | Page 2

a saucer in the parlour. When he was out of doors, he
always came in again by the front door, never at the back.
The children soon spied something new in the shape of a long-haired
kitten, whose fur was gray and soft. She was bright and lively, and was
very pleased to play with the children; for Smut would never take any
notice of her, or play with her one bit: so she and the children became
very good friends, and had many a game together.
After breakfast was over, grandmamma told the children they might put
on their hats and go out of doors. They did not need to be spoken to
twice.
First of all they had a run round the garden, peeped into the greenhouse,
and said "How do you do?" to the gardener. But they did not stop long
among the lovely spring flowers, for they were in such haste to see the
animals.
[Illustration: THE VISIT TO THE PONY. Page 13.]

Jack said, "We must pay our first visit to the pony;" so away they went
to the stable.
The pony was very sober and steady, and, I am sorry to add, rather lazy;
so the children did not get much fun out of him. He lifted up his head
and gave a little neigh to Jack, for he seemed to remember him; and
then he went on eating his hay in the most unconcerned manner.
They then went to see the large dog in the yard. Lion was very glad to
see them. He harked with delight, wagged his tail, rattled his chain; in
fact he seemed as if he would break away from it, in his eagerness to
meet the children.
"Lion is ever so much nicer than the pony," they said.
The fact was, the pony had not much work to do, and his chief thoughts
were about his hay and his corn and his nice warm stable. Now Lion,
although he was generally chained to his kennel, had to watch for
others. He was always listening to hear if any one came upon the
premises who had no business there; and he barked so loudly that
tramps and idle people thought it best to go away. He always welcomed
the gardener and the servants, and especially his master, whenever they
came to see him; so that every one about the place would give a pat or a
word to the friendly dog whenever they passed that way.
"Now let us go and see the fowls," said Mary.
On the right hand side of the drive up to the house was a wide strip of
grass planted with shrubs. Here, standing back, were some wire
enclosures inside of which were some choice broods of chickens.
The girls could have stopped here "for hours," they said, watching the
little chickens, that looked like balls of white or yellow or gray down
running about or hiding under their mothers' wings.
However, most of the fowls were in the orchard, close by which was
the hen-house. Fancy what a pretty sight that orchard was this sunshiny
spring morning! How alive with different sorts of fowls running hither

and thither--black, and gray, and speckled; old motherly hens, and pert,
lively young ones; while the cocks strutted about and crowed one
against another. Then a hen would come out of the hen-house, where
the nests were, telling all the world, by her loud, proud cackling, that
she had laid an egg. What noise there was then, for cocks and hens
would all join in chorus. Some of the hens seemed to get together to
have a quiet chat, as if they were talking over their family affairs; about
which they did not always seem to agree, if you might judge by their
noise.
By this time grandpapa had finished reading his newspaper and came to
the children. He took them to the cow-house to see the new calf, and he
lifted Annie up to let her stroke it; but the mother looked so fierce that
they did not care to stay long there. Then they went into the yard to see
the pigs. The little pigs looked so funny running about the large, clean
sty, as if they loved the bright sunshine and liked to play about in it.
But when they fed they would put their feet in the trough, and this was
not very mannerly of them.
By the time the children had paid a visit to all the old places they were
getting rather tired, and then they went back to the house.

II.
LISTENING IN THE WOODS.
"I hear the blackbird telling His love-tale to his mate; And the merry
skylark swelling The choir at 'heaven's gate.' The cuckoo away in the
thicket