As they went along, she pointed out to Ellen two or three houses in the distance, and gave her not a little gossip about the people who lived in them; but all this Ellen scarcely heard, and cared nothing at all about. She had paused by the side of a large rock standing alone by the wayside, and was looking very closely at its surface.
"What is this curious brown stuff," said Ellen, "growing all over the rock like shrivelled and dried-up leaves? Isn't it curious? part of it stands out like a leaf, and part of it sticks fast; I wonder if it grows here, or what it is."
"Oh, never mind," said the other; "it always grows on the rocks everywhere; I don't know what it is and what's more, I don't care. 'Tain't worth looking at. Come!"
Ellen followed her. But presently the path entered an open woodland, and now her delight broke forth beyond bounds.
"Oh, how pleasant this is! how lovely this is! Isn't it beautiful?" she exclaimed.
"Isn't what beautiful? I do think you are the queerest girl,
Ellen."
"Why, everything," said Ellen, not minding the latter part of the sentence; "the ground is beautiful, and those tall trees, and that beautiful blue sky only look at it!"
"The ground is all covered with stones and rocks is that what you call beautiful? and the trees are as homely as they can be, with their great brown stems and no leaves. Come! what are you staring at?"
Ellen's eyes were fixed on a string of dark spots, which were rapidly passing overhead.
"Hark!" said she; "do you hear that noise? what is that? what is that?"