"I cannot think where John can be," said Henry. "I thought he would be here long before now."
By this time they were come to the brow of a rising ground; and looking before them, behold, there was John at a distance! The children all ran forward to meet him.
"Where are the books, John? Oh, where are the books?" they all said with one voice.
John, who was a very good-natured man, as I have before said, smiled, and, stopping his horse, began to feel in his pockets; and soon brought out, from among other things, two little gilt books; the largest of which he gave to Lucy, and the other to Emily, saying:
"Here is two pennyworth—and here is three pennyworth."
"Indeed, John, you are very good," said the children. "What beautiful books!"
"My book," said Emily, "is 'The History of the Orphan Boy,' and there are a great many pictures in it: the first is a picture of a funeral—that must be the funeral of the poor little boy's papa and mamma, I suppose."
"Let me see, let me see," said Henry. "Oh, how pretty! And what's your book, Lucy?"
"There are not many pictures in my book," said Lucy; "but there is one at the beginning: it is the picture of a
little boy reading to somebody lying in a bed; and there is a lady sitting by. The name of my book is 'The History of Little Henri, or the Good Son.'"