curls of her hair; then suddenly looking
down at the turf on which they were sitting,
he exclaimed, "Look at these little blue
flowers in the grass, and these pieces of dry
branches, covered with moss, like we have in
a stuffed bird cage, at home." His companion
did not answer him, but on looking up again,
he saw that there were tears in her eyes.
"What are you crying for?" said he, almost
crying himself to see her.

"I do not know. I am very happy."

"Well, now, you are a strange girl, to cry
because you are happy." He looked at her,
some time, in wonder, and then rose and led
her away gently, as if she were a sleep-walker,
and he feared to awaken her.

"Are you tired now, Annie?"

"No, but I would like to drink some cold
clear water."

"I know where there is a spring," said the
boy; "come this way." After awhile, they
descended into a hollow, and found a little
rill that fell bubbling in an iron tank, at
which some sheep were drinking. "I wish I
had a cup, Annie; however, if you let the water
fall into your hand, you can drink from it.
The child did as he told her; and, as they
stood there, a cloud passed before the sun and
threw a shadow on the ground; at the same
moment, a gust of warm air swept the surface
of the tank into little waves.

"Come," said the boy; "let us walk fast;
I think it is going to rain." There was again
a dead warmth and stillness in the air; great
clouds were slowly moving up; and lower
down in the horizon they were gathered
together in huge masses of a slaty colour,
against which the peeled and whitened
branches of an oak, smitten by lightning,
stood out clearly. The girl kept up with
her companion, though he quickened his pace
once or twice, till the wind rose again, and
beat some heavy rain-drops in their faces;
and almost at the same moment a sudden
flash was followed by a long roll of thunder.
Annie did not speak, but clung to her
companion's arm, and the latter, turning round,
saw that she looked pale and terrified. "Don't
be frightened," said he, "but keep up with me.
If once we get into the road we shall be
safe." But the rain now began to fall fast
with large drops.

"Let us stay under that tree,'' said the
child.

"No, no," said her young friend. "I have
heard that that is dangerous, when there is
lightning. Yonder is a little house. Stay;
let me tie my handkerchief over your bonnet;
and now follow me." He ran towards the
building that he spoke of, the girl following
him. Half way, another flash dazzled them,
and instantly the thunder broke again over
their heads and rolled away; but they did
not stop. The building that they sought was
a tiled shed, open at the sides, and used as a
shelter for hay. There they were protected
from the rain; but the lightning continued,
at intervals, to terrify the child; who, at
every flash, drew close to her companion, till,
at length, they became less frequent; the
clouds broke up, the sun shot sideways
through the falling rain, and Annie was the
first to see two rainbows—one above the other
—in the east. As soon as the rain had
abated, they left their place of shelter, and
quickly regained the road, and got back into
the town before dusk. Mrs. Frampton met
them on the bridge. "Oh, children, children!"
she exclaimed, "I have been almost out of my
wits. And you are not wet at all? Yes;
why, dear me, Annie, you've been walking in
wet grass; your little feet are soaked. Come,
do not stand still an instant." At home they
found a fire burning, and Mrs. Frampton,
having changed the child's clothes and given
her some warm tea, sat her before it, where
she fell asleep. Her young companion sat
also beside the fire, watching the changing
expression of her features, and listening to her
muttering in her dreams, and, as he thought,
of a murmuring and a noise of people
afar off.

The child was still sleeping, and it was
getting late, when there came a tapping at
the door; and on Mrs. Frampton opening it,
a boy bade her come to see a woman who
was lying ill.

"Did you boil the herbs for her, that I
gave you? " she inquired.

"Oh yes, mum!" said the boy; "but she's
no better."

"Stay," said she; "I will go back with
you;" and putting on her shawl and bonnet,
and promising to return shortly, she went
out. The boy rose; and walking on tiptoe
across the room, shut the door noiselessly
after her, and returned to his place beside
the fire.

"Poor Annie!" said he, after watching
some time, "she is wearied out with her
walk."

She continued to sleep, and he to watch
her, though sometimes he felt tempted to
sleep himself, for the fire burnt brightly, the
cat, stretched out upon the rug, purred
drowsily, and the kettle sang upon the hob.

A few days afterwards the old man returned;
the barge was soon ready for another voyage,
and, finally, he again set sail down the river,
taking the children with him. In the evening,
the boy saw again the dusky form of the
island across the bows; and drawing nearer to
his young friend, and holding her hand in his,
he bade her not forget him, though he should
not come again before the next summer.
"No, no," said she; "I did not forget you all
last winter, though I hardly knew you then;
and now I am sure I shall not."

"God bless you, Annie!" said he, as he
parted with her on the Ayte; "we will walk
again in the Park one day."

The barge did not stay at the island on its
return. It was a clear, starlight night when
they passed, sweeping the short willows with