"Such a beautiful swing, under such a cool, shady tree, how delightful!"
Florence jumped, danced, clapped her hands, and at length darted off, and, bounding into the swing, called to her father, "Come quick, quick, papa, and swing me."
"After I have swung your friends, my dear."
Florence looked disappointed, and both Harriet and Mary drew back, saying, "Oh no, sir! Swing Florence first."
Mr. Arnott saw that to persist in his politeness would distress them, so saying, "I will swing you twelve times, Florence," he touched the swing, and away it rose, rapidly yet steadily, through the air, higher and higher each time, till, as Mr. Arnott counted twelve, Florence shrieked, half with fear and half with delight. Mr. Arnott caught the swing as it descended, and stopped it.
"Oh papa! is that twelve?"
"Yes, Florence; did you not hear me count?"
"Well, just once more, papa."
Mr. Arnott stooped and whispered to her—she reddened, and getting down slowly, said, "Now, Harriet, you get in."
Harriet got in, and counting for herself, sprang out as the swing descended for the twelfth time. Mary had her turn, and looked so well pleased, that, had her father been in Mr. Arnott's place, she would, I doubt not, have said, like Florence, "Just once more, papa." As she came out Florence again sprang in.