It slipped from me you shall know,
It was in the dewy alleys
Of the land of long ago.
Not in sadness,
Nor reproach, these words I say,
God is good, and gives new gladness,
When the old He takes away.
"You never did? oh what a pity!" exclaimed Sybil. "You really never, never did, mother?"
Auntie looked rather "funny," as the children call it.
"As trots I never saw them again," she said, "and at the time I wrote out that story I had not seen them again at all."
"But you've seen them since," cried all the three children at once, "you've seen them since they've grown big. Oh auntie, oh mother, do tell us."
"I couldn't just now, truly I couldn't," said auntie, "it would lead me into another story which isn't written yet. All that I know about 'the two funny little trots' I have told you. Do you like it?"
"Awfully," said Sybil.
"Very much," said Floss.