"William was arguing with the woman, and he had got the other hand of the child. "Mr. Lawley rushed on, trembling with hope, trembling with fear--could this boy be his Edwy? William had entered his service since he had lost his child; he could not therefore know him; nor could he himself be sure--so strange, so altered, did the baby look. "But Edwy knew his own father in a moment; he could not run to meet him, for he was tightly held by the gipsy, but he cried: "'Oh, papa! papa is come to Edwy!' "The old woman knew Mr. Lawley, and saw that the child knew him. She had been trying to persuade William that the boy was her grandchild; but it was all up with her now; she let the child's hand go, and whilst he was flying to his father's arms, she disappeared into some well-known hole or hollow in the neighbouring rocks. "Who can pretend to describe the feelings of the father when he felt the arms of his long-lost boy clinging round his neck, and his little heart beating against his own? or who could say what the mother felt when she saw her husband come out from the mouth of the valley, bearing in his arms the little ragged child? Could it be her own--her Edwy? She could hardly be sure of her happiness till the boy held out his arms to her, and cried, 'Mamma! mamma!'" [Illustration: "_Could it be her own--her Edwy? She could hardly be sure of her happiness._"--Page 202.] * * * * * "This story is too short," said Henry; "I wish it had been twice as long; I want to hear more of that little boy and of the gipsies." "It is getting very hot," said Emily, when they had done talking; "let us go into the house, and we will not come out again until it is cool. I hope we shall not be naughty to-day, Henry, but do what papa and mamma will think right." "Come, then," replied Henry. And they went back to the house and spent the rest of the morning in their play-room: and I am sure that they were very happy in a quiet way, for Henry was making a grotto of moss and shells, fixed on a board with paste; and Emily was just beginning to make a little hermit to be in the grotto, till they both changed their minds a little, and turned the grotto into a gipsy's hut, and instead of a hermit an old woman was made to stand at the door. [Illustration: "Oh Papa! Mamma! Come to Edwy!"] Further Story of a Holiday [Illustration: "She will get amongst the shrubs," said Emily] The evening was very cool and pleasant, when Emily and Henry went out to play. Mary Bush had given Henry a young magpie; she had taught it to say a few words, to the great delight of the children. It could say, "Good morning!" "How do you do?" "Oh, pretty Mag!" "Mag's a hungry." "Give Mag her dinner." "A bit of meat for poor Mag." To be sure the bird's words did not come out very clearly. But it was quite enough, as Henry said, if he understood them.