194 Zom Seven Years Old.

we a

“No,” said Tom; “I should say from a
rose. That rose-tree that grows near the
door—you know which I mean.

When they had done eating and talking it
was time to say good-bye. The old lady
gave them each a little pot of honey to carry
home with them.

“Hold it carefully,” she said, “or it will
run out.”

“Ves,” said Tom; “the bees must have
put some water into their honey, it’s so thin.
I wonder where they get it from—if it’s rain
from the sky, or water out of the pump.”

“And here’s a little story-book for you,
Archie,” said the kind old lady; “and here’s
one for you, Tom.”

The little story-books had each bright blue
covers, with large letters outside printed in
black. |

“Qh, thank you, grandmamma!” cried
Archie. “I'll read it as we go home, if the
dogcart doesn’t jolt too much.”

Tom was just as pleased with his, and
thanked her several times; but.he settled to.