In the evening, after tea, the children and their father and mother, as usual, got ready to take a walk; and the children begged Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild to go with them to meet John. "For John," said Henry, "will be coming back now, and will have brought us some pretty books." So Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild took the road which led towards the town where the fair was held, and the children ran before them. It was a fine evening. The hedges were full of wild roses, which smelt most sweet; and the haymakers were making hay in the fields on each side of the road. "I cannot think where John can be," said Henry. "I thought he would be here long before now." By this time they were come to the brow of a rising ground; and looking before them, behold, there was John at a distance! The children all ran forward to meet him. "Where are the books, John? Oh, where are the books?" they all said with one voice. John, who was a very good-natured man, as I have before said, smiled, and, stopping his horse, began to feel in his pockets; and soon brought out, from among other things, two little gilt books; the largest of which he gave to Lucy, and the other to Emily, saying: "Here is two pennyworth--and here is three pennyworth." "Indeed, John, you are very good," said the children. "What beautiful books!" "My book," said Emily, "is 'The History of the Orphan Boy,' and there are a great many pictures in it: the first is a picture of a funeral--that must be the funeral of the poor little boy's papa and mamma, I suppose." "Let me see, let me see," said Henry. "Oh, how pretty! And what's your book, Lucy?" "There are not many pictures in my book," said Lucy; "but there is one at the beginning: it is the picture of a little boy reading to somebody lying in a bed; and there is a lady sitting by. The name of my book is 'The History of Little Henri, or the Good Son.'" "Oh, that must be very pretty," said Henry. By this time Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were come up. "Oh, papa! oh, mamma!" said the little ones, "what beautiful books John has brought!" "Indeed," said Mr. Fairchild, when he had looked at them a little while, "they appear to be very nice books, and the pictures in them are very pretty." "Henry shall read them to us, my dears," said Mrs. Fairchild, "whilst we sit at work; I should like to hear them very much." "To-morrow," said Mr. Fairchild, looking at his wife, "we begin to make hay in the Primrose Meadow. What do you say? Shall we go after breakfast, and take a cold dinner with us, and spend the day under the trees at the corner of the meadow? Then we can watch the haymakers, and Henry can read the books whilst you and his sisters are sewing." "Oh, do let us go! do let us go!" said the children; "do, mamma, say yes." "With all my heart, my dears," said Mrs. Fairchild.