She has gone to bed early, that she may wake with the first daylight, and she is out of bed in a minute when she hears her father’s cheerful call in the morning, “Come, children, it is time to be off.”

Their dinner is packed in a large basket.  The donkey stands ready before the door, with great empty bags hanging at each side, and they go merrily over the crisp white frost to the chestnut-trees.  How the frost has opened the burrs!  He has done more than half their work for them already.  How they laugh and sing and shout to each other as they gather the smooth brown nuts, filling their baskets, and running to pour them into the great bags!  It is merry autumn work.  The sun looks down upon them through the yellow leaves, and the rocks give them mossy seats; while here and there comes a bird or a squirrel to see what these strange people are doing in their woods.

Jeannette declares that the chestnut days are the best in the year.  Perhaps she is right.  I am sure I should enjoy them, shouldn’t you?  She really helps, although she is but a little girl, and her father says at night that his little Jean is a dear, good child.  It makes her very happy.  She thinks of what he has said while she undresses at night, unbraiding her hair and unlacing her little blue bodice with its great white sleeves, and she goes peacefully to sleep, to dream again of the merry autumn days.  And while she dreams good angels must be near her, for she said her sweet and reverent prayer on her knees, with a full and thankful heart to the All-Father who gave her so many blessings.

She is our little mountain sister.  The mountain life is a fresh and happy one.  I should like to stay with this little sister a long, long time.

THE STORY OF PEN-SE.

Dear children, have you ever watched the sun set?  If you live in the country, I am almost sure you have many times delighted yourselves with the gold and rosy clouds.  But those of you who live in the city do not often have the opportunity, the high houses and narrow streets shut out so much of the sky.

I am so happy as to live in the country; and let me tell you where I go to see the sun set.

The house in which I live has some dark, narrow garret stairs leading from the third story into a small garret under the roof, and many and many a time do I go up these narrow stairs, and again up to the scuttle-window in the roof, open it, and seat myself on the top step or on the roof itself.  Here I can look over the house-tops, and even over the tree-tops, seeing many things of which I may perhaps tell you at some time; but to-night we are to look at the sunset.

Can you play that you are up here with me, looking past the houses, past the elm-trees and the low hills that seem so far away, to where the sun hangs low, like a great red ball, so bright that we can hardly look at it?  Watch it with me.  Now a little part has disappeared; now it is half gone, and in a minute more we see nothing but the train of bright clouds it has left behind.