It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The sun had marked its shortest shadows. They were now pointing toward the northeast. The family had returned from the little village church. Dinner was over, and they had all gone into the cool, shady piazza. Mrs. Leonard and Susie had settled themselves cozily in one corner and were reading together. Mr. Leonard was nodding over the pages of his weekly newspaper. Frank, stretched out on the settee, was absorbed in a new book, while not far away Donald lay under the spreading branches of a spruce tree with Barri by his side. Uncle Robert stood gazing at the green woods, which looked so cool and inviting. "'The groves were God's first temples,'" he said to himself, and then, turning to the others, asked, "Who wants to go for a walk?" "I do," said Frank, springing up. "Come on, Don. Don-ald!" he called, "we're going for a walk." "You'd better come with us," said Uncle Robert to Mrs. Leonard. "I'll get your hat, mother," cried Susie eagerly, running into the house. "Shall we go to the cornfield?" asked Mr. Leonard, picking up his straw hat. "I think it would be cooler in the woods," said Mrs. Leonard. "Oh, yes," said Donald, "let's go up the creek to the pond." The country was in the full glory of early summer. Just beyond the rich green of the great cornfield could be seen the peaceful river. The yellowing grain on the upland waved gently in the breeze. Under the wide-spreading oak trees in the pasture the cows were lazily chewing their cuds. A feeling of quiet pleasure filled the air. "I planted all these trees," said Mr. Leonard as they walked under the maples that grew on either side of the road. "It is wonderful how they have grown. They were like little sticks when I set them out." "The one at the end of the row," said Mrs. Leonard, "was planted the day Frank was born." "It is the largest of them all," said Frank. "That's because it was planted first," said Susie. "I have a tree, too, uncle." "So have I," said Donald. "It is the spruce in the front yard." "We call them our birthday trees," said Susie. "Mine is the elm by the corner of the porch." "That is a very nice custom," said Uncle Robert. "But the trees grow faster than you do." "They don't have anything to do but grow," said Donald. When they reached the bridge they paused to look up and down the creek valley. Through the trees they caught glimpses of the shining river and the waving corn. The creek, a little stream, flowed between the two gentle slopes that formed its valley. "There's a gate under this bridge, uncle," said Donald, "to keep the cows from going down the creek to the cornfield. In the fall, after the corn is cut, we open it, and let them go to the river." "How pleasant it is in here!" said Uncle Robert as they walked farther into the wood.