Mary started, for she did not know that any one was by to hear her sing. She turned, and saw the farmer’s wife, one of their nearest neighbours, who had come in silently by the garden-wicket, with a milk-pail in her hand, which she was going to take into the kitchen. “We are going to have a change of weather at last, Miss!” “Are we?” said Mary. “How do you know that?” “The wind that is blowing now has dried up a good deal of wet already, and my husband says, that if it goes on blowing in the night, it will be quite dry under foot by to-morrow morning.” “I am very glad to hear it,” said Mary, “for Johnny and I have been engaged, for some time past, to go to my aunt’s; but the rain has prevented us. To-morrow, you think there is a chance for us, do you?” “I have no doubt of it, my dear; but if you like, I will give you a signal of fair weather early in the morning. You know my boy Jem minds his father’s sheep on those downs yonder. He plays the flageolet pretty well, and he always takes it with him to amuse himself when he is alone on the hills. When the wind is blowing from the quarter where it is now, you can hear him very plainly, as you sometimes have, no doubt. I will tell him to play to-morrow morning, about six o’clock; and if you can hear him, you may be sure that the wind is in the dry quarter, and may reckon on a fine day.” “Thank you!” said Mary, “let it be so, if you please. Tell him to play loud and well.” That day passed in happy, tranquil beauty. A fresh breeze swept over the hills and leas, and sang through the boughs all the evening long; and when the little maiden went to bed, its murmuring hushed her to slumber. Pleasant was her sleep, and beautiful and innocent her dreams! Tick, tick, tick! went the clock upon the stair-case, and the wind went on whistling and sighing through all the night hours. At five o’clock in the morning, the light shone strong into the bed-chamber, and every cock in the neighbourhood was crowing. The little maiden turned over on her pillow; but she still slept. Six o’clock! and not awake yet? Suddenly the little bird fluttered his wings, and gave a long shake of his music at the very top of his voice. Then he sang:— “What! my maiden—sleeping still? Hark! the music on the hill!” Mary awoke, and the first sounds she heard after the calling of her bird, were the notes of a flageolet from the downs. She got up and dressed, drew up the blind of her window and looked out—and, oh! what a clear, dry, beautiful, fresh, sparkling morning! Oh! happy day! Now, Johnny, my dear, we shall go to auntie’s, and play in the meadow and garden through the bright sunny hours. Up! up! and be stirring every one! Get the breakfast over in a twinkling, and out with the pony chaise! Now they are off! Johnny and Mary, side by side, and one of her fond arms around him.