“Come, Fani, I know of a splendid tree for you to draw, and I have the paper and everything all ready.”

Fani was more than willing; and off they scampered, first down the road, and then by a path across the meadow to a small green hill, known as Oak-ridge.  As they slackened their pace in the ascent, Emma explained her plan.  A short time before, the two higher classes in the school had begun to take drawing lessons, a new experiment.  Emma and Elsli were in the fifth class, and so was the studious Fred, who, though more than a year younger, was so much in advance of those of his age that he had quite outstripped the fourth class to which he properly belonged, and was, indeed, more clever than most of the members of the fifth.  Not in drawing, however.  In that, Fani led the whole school, and he was, indeed, so successful with his pencil that the teacher often said to him:—­

“Now, Fani, just see what you can do, if you only try!  You could do far better than this, even, if you would only take pains, and not be so indifferent and light-minded.”

On this very day the teacher had said that he should like to have the children sketch something from nature; a tree or a flower, perhaps; and he assured Fani that he copied trees remarkably well, and that he would, probably, succeed out-of-doors.  Emma was very much interested in Fani’s drawing; and he had made several pictures especially for her, which she used for book-marks; a rose and a bunch of strawberries, a fisherman, rod in hand, seated by a stream under a tree.

So now Emma told Fani how excited she was when she heard what the teacher said, and how she instantly bethought herself of a splendid oak-tree that she had noticed a few days before when walking with her mother in the meadow, not far from the village; and how impatient she felt to carry Fani off, the moment school was over, that he might set to work that very day to copy it.  Talking thus, they reached the top of the ridge and the tree was before them.  It was, in truth, a magnificent sight, as it stood on the brow of the hill, and threw its heavy shadow far out all round on the short meadow grass.  Fani stood gazing with wonder up into its rich foliage.

“Oh, how beautiful!” he exclaimed.  “I’m so glad, Emma, that you thought of it; it is splendid to draw!  I’ll begin directly; not exactly here, but a little farther off.”  And Fani stepped slowly back till he had reached the right point of view.  There he sat down on the ground, and Emma, placing herself at his side, drew out from her satchel a perfect wealth of paper and pencils.

“There’s paper enough there to make a great many sketches,” said the boy, as he looked with longing eyes at all this fine material.

“I will give you a lot of it to take home,” said Emma.  “I thought I would bring a good deal, because you might have to try several times before you got a good picture.  Now pick out a pencil, Fani.”