Beyond the brook was a wheat field bright with poppies
"It looks just like a brook I know in New England," said their mother. "Let us walk a little way and find out where it comes from."
"Oh, yes! Let's walk!" cried Molly and May and their father.
So they left their car and began following the brook under the shade of the tall trees. The children picked handfuls of scarlet poppies and beautiful blue cornflowers. They listened to the happy nightingales and mocking birds singing in the trees above them, and they watched handsome great dragon flies dart along close above the cool, splashing water.
On and on they walked, until at last they came to a beautiful, quiet spot shut in by trees and bushes, with only the brook flowing through it.
"What a splendid place for a picnic!" cried May. "How I wish we had something to eat!"
"I have some small cakes of sweet chocolate," said her mother. "Perhaps a good fairy will come along and change them into strawberry sandwiches for us. Let us sit down on the grass and see."
So they all sat down by the the brook and their mother divided the little round cakes of chocolate among them. They each had three.