"Oh how good he is!" cried Willy. "But, Papa, does every body who sells things sell them for a little more than the things cost him?" "Yes," said his father. "But we have had enough of buying and selling now, and I should think more than enough to puzzle your little head." "I was puzzled," said Willy, "till I thought of the landlady at the inn and her pockets full of money, made by people paying a little over, and then I understood it." The next day they continued their journey by railway, and arrived safely at grandmamma's country-house, where they were to spend a month. THE COUNTRY HOUSE. Willy was highly delighted with every thing he saw at his grandmamma's house; it was quite unlike his papa's house in town; the rooms were smaller, and the curtains, and tables, and chairs were not so fine; but then there were cows with their calves in the cow-house, and horses with their young colts in the stables, and sheep in the meadows with their lambs skipping about them, and hens with their chickens in the poultry yard, and ducks and geese swimming in the pond; and they all looked as if they were so happy and so hungry; for, excepting the birds, which were swimming in the water, they were all busy eating. "As for the cows and sheep," said Willy, "they may eat all day long, and I believe they do; for only look at that cow, Grandmamma, lying down to rest; she is still chewing the grass she has been eating." "That cows always do," replied his grandmother; "when they eat grass they do not chew it, but put it into a sort of bag, or pouch, they have inside them, and when the bag is full they lie down, and whilst they are resting they bring the grass out of this pouch back into their mouths, chew it at their leisure, and then swallow it, just as we do our food." Grandmamma then took Willy to a little garden, which had been made on purpose for him. "The gardener," said she, "has got it into very good order for you, and you are to keep it so. Look at these rows of peas, they are now in blossom--next week these blossoms will fall." "Oh! I shall be very sorry for that," said Willy; "they look so pretty, and they smell so sweet," added he, putting his nose close to one of the flowers, "it is a pity they do not last longer." "But when they are gone something better, though not so pretty, will come in their place; instead of flowers, there will be peas in a pod." "I know what pea-pods are," said Willy, "very well; for though we have no garden in London, the cook buys peas, and sometimes Mamma lets me shell them. I like shelling peas very much, the pod cracks and opens so nicely, and the pretty little round peas lie so straight in a row. But how can these flowers turn into pods? they are not the least like pods."