32 Turnaside Cottage.

 

bat, or, still worse, c-a-t spellcat ? It dawned upon
me almost suddenly at last ; the words took shape
before my eyes, and I could read. But the fight
had not been won without many a struggle.
Nearly every fine afternoon found me sitting at
my lady’s feet in some sheltered nook or on some
sunny slope, while Monna grazed quietly near us.
If, through some fancy of Monna’s for a more
distant part of the common, my lady did not
perceive us asshe came on to it, I would attract her
attention by my cry of “ Ca-a-ow !” and run towards
her, Monna placidly following. My lady told me
that her name was Miss Churchill, and that she was
staying with Mr. and Mrs. Prickard at the big house,
or The House, as the people of the village called it,
at the other side of the common. She had come
for a long visit—long enough, she hoped, for me to
learn to read fluently before she left. And so it
proved after all, for when once the words in the
book had a meaning for me, I spent almost my
whole time in making them out. I no longer lay
for hours listlessly in the sun; calf and butcher were
forgotten; my quartz pebble had no more long
journeys and perilous adventures ; I was absorbed
in learning to read, partly for its own sake, and
partly because it pleased my kind lady. The
village children did not come on the common much