Our Little Canadian Cousin

rely no need of either. And this particular morning was of the best and brightest. The garden at the back of Mr. Merrithew's house was sweet with the scent of newl

under the lilacs, making dande

ce his age, but they were closest chums, and delighted in building all sorts of air-castles together. This afternoon, when

, let's ma

solemnly. "Let's plan about

y of June! There's all the lovely, lovely summer to talk a

expression. "I know one of them; Daddy told me this m

le year, while uncle and aunt go out to Br

htfully. "But if she's like you, she'll be all ri

d I'll give you three guesses. It's something that will happen in July or August, and

nd settled down on its broad seat, while Jack cudgel

cnic?" he a

rie l

ch better than

aga

-a visit to

better t

y to take us

our last guess. S

s, plea

till the holidays, and everything turns out

out? Really in ten

to the extent of executing a littl

y, being luxurious in their tastes, build tiny houses and call them camps, but the true a

of all its possible joys, a sweet voice call

you want to come for

hildren rushed pell-mell down the garden path, endangering

with quantities of beautiful brown hair. She carried a small bask

" Marjorie cried, and "May I take m

and Saturday wouldn't be much of a holiday without the woods. Put on your big h

men shouldn't let ladies carry things, father says,-but Margie, you

ly do like something in my hands, and a spade

very small but beautiful city, built on a wooded point that juts out into the bright waters of the St. John River. Of this river the little Canadian Cou

wn. Though it was really but one hill, the various roads that subdivided it gave it various names, some derived from the settlements they led to, and some from buildings on the way. It was through the woods of "Col

once began to search for fairies. Marjorie contented herself with looking for wild

re all rather too well-grown to stand moving. But I will try a few

rom its inspection of a tiny h

ink one lives in here, only she w

he writer (though she could not remember who it was) who said: "I

ful wood-spirits, called dryads, who had their homes in trees. The

said Marjorie, coming up with her hands

her answered, laughing. "Like Jackie with his fairies,

ackie asked, "or would th

e apt to be frightened themselves than to frighten any one else. But remember, dear

tory about one, mot

rrithew sho

ime," she said. "Let us have a cooky now

e precious bag, and were soon well occupied with its crisp and toothsome contents. Mrs. Merrithew, knowing well that little folk are generally troub

sed of his sixth cooky he

I wish you would tel

you all that I know about her. I have only seen her twice, and on one of those occasions she was

and mother, and her home, and everything like tha

guiled into a story in any case, so she

a good position. He had only been there a short time when he met a very charming young lady" ("This sounds quite like a book-story," Marjorie here interposed) "by whom he was greatly attracted. She was partly French, her mother having been a lady of old French

ded, tho

-that young lady-had all the nicenesses of the

stinction, too," cried his mother, clapping her h

and not well off. She was teaching in an English family, and not, I think, very happy in h

ily ever after?

w considered

eal of sickness, but still they have been happy through it all. And they have one dear little da

you," both chi

y have all three gone away for his health, and now the doctors have ordered him to try the delightful climate of British Columbia, and to spend at least a year there if it a

g, golden light through the trees. Tha