So Fanny covered the grave with flowers, and resolved that she would try and not love anything so much again that could be taken away from her; but she was always kind to all animals, and every living thing,—and, after this, she was led to think of and love such things as could not be taken away from her: and that made her truly happy.
THE SECRET.
“Come, Fanny,” said George Lewis, “put on your hat, and go out with me among the trees and bushes. It is a bright, glorious morning, and I have a secret to reveal to you, sister, when we get where nobody will overhear us.”
“Oh, that’s grand,” cried Fanny, with her face kindling up with joy, and her curiosity, like herself, all on tiptoe. “I love to find out secrets.”
She took her brother’s hand, and away they hied, running and leaping, over the field, past the new hayricks, across the rivulet, and into the flowery border of a thicket. Here was a little silvery fountain, gushing from a mossy rock, and flashing to the light over its pebbly basin; and there a green, arching bough, hung with clusters of wild berries, and trembling from the weight and motion of their light-winged gatherer; while the air was filled with sweet perfume, and the songs of the feathered warblers sounded from shrub and tree on every side.