"Tan I do, mamma? tan Annis do?" asked the baby girl eagerly, the rosy face all aglow with delight.
"Yes, indeed, mother's darling; you shall go in your little coach; because your dear little feet couldn't travel fast enough to keep up with the rest, and would get so tired."
"Do we need to be dressed up, mother?" asked Fan, "me and Don and all the children?"
"No, dear; we don't go through town and are dressed quite enough for the woods."
They were soon on the way, strolling leisurely along, drinking in with keen enjoyment the sweet sights and sounds.
The sky over their heads was of a dark celestial blue with here and there a floating cloud of snowy whiteness, whose shadow flitted over the landscape, giving to it a charming variety of light and shade.
Their road lay along the bank of the river and its soft murmur mingled with the hum of insects and the song of birds. The grass beneath their feet was emerald green thickly studded with wild flowers of every hue, and the groves of saplings through which they passed were fast donning their summer robes.
The bridge was a rough wooden structure half a mile below the town; quite out of danger of crowding the houses of the citizens or doing much injury to the custom of the ferry.
The walk was a longer one than the younger children were accustomed to take, but there was no occasion for haste—they were in search of rest and pleasure, and when little feet grew weary, mother let them stop and amuse themselves with making wreaths and bouquets of the flowers they had gathered, or by throwing stones into the river, till they were ready to go on again.
They did not go far beyond the bridge; only climbed the bank, on the other side, picked a few flowers there, and were ready to return.