Violet had picked a whole apron full of leaves, reaching up in the trees for the largest and handsomest, and then, kneeling where they grew close to the ground, had collected the lovely, delicate ones that were so small you would not notice unless you were looking for them—broad, shining oak leaves, long, graceful chestnut leaves, and some from the fluttering poplar, and some from the hemlocks and pines, tall ferns, and maiden's-hair, and grass, clover, sorrel, ground pine, and hundreds more.

Violet had been counting how many kinds there were; and as I have forgotten, the first time you go into the woods you must try yourself, and lay them side by side, as she did, to see which is prettiest.

But away flew all the leaves, as, directly she heard Love's voice, the little girl sprang to her feet, waking puss out of her nap so suddenly that she spit, and put up her back, and her hair stood all on end with fright.

Then you might have heard Violet's laughter ringing merrily enough through the silent wood.

Such an unusual noise startled a whole flock of crows, where, hid in a tall pine tree, they had, like pussy, been taking a nap, and scolded well because they were awakened.

Violet wondered if it would help the matter to make such a noise about it with their hoarse voices, which sounded as if they were made on purpose to scold—so grating and shrill.

She went to the brook for her flowers, while the kitten followed, gaping such great gapes that Violet told her she'd better take care, or she wouldn't be able to close her mouth again. And looking back among the trees, as she climbed the stone wall and was going out into the sunshine again, Violet wondered if God could have made that beautiful place for no one but her; no one else entered it, she knew.

"I guess God thinks it's no matter how small I am, so long as I'm large enough to love it all," she thought; and I don't believe Violet was wrong.

As they went home, a great cricket flew from under the kitten's feet and frightened her again, for she was hardly awake. Away she sprang to catch it, and away sprang the cricket, while Violet had to run fast to keep up with them, laughing to see how puzzled puss would be when the cricket hid under the long grass; and while she was pawing, and purring, and looking up to Violet as if she'd ask, "Where is he?" out he'd spring again, directly past her nose, and in among the grass would hide, and peep at her, while she looked every where but in the right place.

At last, in her eagerness, the kitten jumped rather too far, and went into the brook; and in her fright I don't know what would have happened next if Violet had not seized her just as, mewing and trembling, the water was washing her down stream.

She lapped Violet's face and purred as the little girl tried to dry her fur and warm her again in her bosom; but she was a wilful puss, and preferred creeping along in the sunshine, shaking each of her four paws at every step in the drollest fashion. But she didn't chase any more crickets that day.

This affair of the kitten's, and waiting to look for her berries, which Violet had hid among the bushes so safely she could not find them herself at first, delayed her so long that she almost flew the rest of the way; for when the old people went to market with their goods, they always came home tired and hungry, and were very glad of a cup of warm tea.

So she did not stop flying until a fire was made and the table set; and just then she heard voices at the door.