"And made it," said Fin, jumping up. "Oh, I say, look down there," she cried, pointing through the ferns at her feet to a cool, dark pool, twenty feet below; "there's a place. Oh, Tiny, if I thought I should ever grow into such a screwy, cross old maid as Aunt Matty, I think I should jump down there and let the fishes eat." "Fin, that little tongue of yours goes too fast," said her sister. "Let it," was the laconic reply. "Tongues were made to talk with. Let's go on; I'm tired of digging up ferns. Wasn't it funny, seeing Humphrey Lloyd at that race? And I wonder who those gentlemen were." "Do you mean the people who stared at us so through the race-glass?" "No, I don't, Miss Forgetful. I mean the big, dark man, and the funny, little fierce fellow with his hair brushed into points. You don't remember, I suppose?" "Oh yes," said Tiny, quietly. "I remember, for I was very much frightened." "Ah, I hope the knight-errant wasn't hurt; and, oh, do look, Tiny," Fin cried, putting down her basket. "What's that growing in that tree?" As she spoke, she climbed from stone to stone up the steep bank, till she was stopped short by her dress being caught by a bramble. "Oh, Tiny, come and unloose me, do. I'm caught." There was nothing for it but that her sister should clamber up the bank, and unhook the dress, which she did, when Fin gave her a hand, and drew her up to her side. "What a tomboy you do keep, Fin," said Tiny, panting; "see how my dress is torn." "Never mind, I'll sew it up for you. What's the good of living in the country if you can't be free as the birds? Sweet, sweet, sweet! Oh, you beauty!" she cried, as a goldfinch sounded his merry lay. "Tiny, shouldn't you like to be a bird?" "No," was the quiet reply. "I would rather be what I am." "I should like to be a bird," said Fin, placing one foot on an excrescence of a stumpy pollard oak, and, making a jump, she caught hold of a low bough. "But not now," cried Tiny. "What are you going to do?" "Going to do?" laughed Fin. "Why, climb this tree;" and she got a step higher. "Oh, Fin, how foolish! Whatever for? Suppose some one came by?" "Nobody comes along here at this time of the day, my dear; so here goes, and if I fall pick up my pieces, and carry them safely home to dear Aunt Matty. `And the dicky-bird sang in the tree,'" she trilled out, as step by step she drew herself up into the crown of the stumpy, gnarled pollard. "Oh, Fin!" exclaimed her sister. "Its all right, Miss Timidity. I'm safe, and I came on purpose," cried Fin, from up in her perch, her face glowing, and eyes sparkling with merriment. "But what are you trying to do?" "To get some of this, sweet innocent. You can't see, I suppose, what it is?" "No, indeed, I cannot," said Tiny--"yes, I can. Why, it's mistletoe."