“Well,” said Mary Bell, “I should like to go.”

So Mrs. Bell dressed Mary neatly, for the walk, gave her a very small tin pail, with two oranges in it for Mary Erskine’s children, and then sent out word to the hired man, whose name was Joseph, to harness the horse into the wagon.  When the wagon was ready, she directed Joseph to carry Mary to the corner, and see that she set out upon the right road there, toward Mary Erskine’s house.  It was only about half a mile from the corner to the house, and the road, though crooked, stony, and rough, was very plain, and Mary Bell had often walked over it alone.

There was, in fact, only one place where there could be any danger of Mary Bell’s losing her way, and that was at a point about midway between the corner and Mary Erskine’s house, where a road branched off to the right, and led into the woods.  There was a large pine-tree at this point, which Mary Bell remembered well; and she knew that she must take the left-hand road when she reached this tree.  There were various little paths, at other places, but none that could mislead her.

When Joseph, at length, set Mary Bell down in the path at the corner, she stood still, upon a flat rock by the side of the road, to see him turn the wagon and set out upon his return.

“Good-bye, Joseph,” said she.  “I am going to be gone several days.”

“Good-bye,” said Joseph, turning to look round at Mary Bell, as the wagon slowly moved away.

“Bid mother good-bye,” said Mary Bell,—­“and Joseph, don’t you forget to water my geranium.”

“No,” said Joseph, “and don’t you forget to take the left-hand road.”

“No,” said Mary Bell.

She felt a slight sensation of lonesomeness, to be left there in solitude at the entrance of a dark and somber wood, especially when she reflected that it was to be several days before she should see her mother again.  But then, calling up to her mind a vivid picture of Mary Erskine’s house, and of the pleasure that she should enjoy there, in playing with Bella and the baby, she turned toward the pathway into the woods, and walked resolutely forward, swinging her pail in her hand and singing a song.

There were a great many birds in the woods; some were hopping about upon the rocks and bushes by the road-side.  Others were singing in solitary places, upon the tops of tall trees in the depths of the forest, their notes being heard at intervals, in various directions, as if one was answering another, to beguile the solemn loneliness of the woods.  The trees were very tall, and Mary Bell, as she looked up from her deep and narrow pathway, and saw the lofty tops rocking to and fro with a very slow and gentle motion, as they were waved by the wind, it seemed to her that they actually touched the sky.