OUR ROBINS. 33

 You like flowers, Lyman," I said, as he scrambled up
a rock to reach some pink columbines that grew from its
crevices.
 Oh yes! indeed I do like them," he said. "But I am
getting these for mother. She loves flowers above all
things-all such sort of things," he added, with a smile.
 "I remember very well," said I, "your mother loved
them when she was a little girl; and she and I once at-
tended together some lectures on botany-that is, the
science that describes plants and explains their nature."
 Oh, I know, ma'am," said he. Mother remembers
all about it; and she has taught me a great deal she
learned then. When we lived at I used to find her
a great many flowers she never saw before. But she
could class them, she said, though they seemed like stran-
gers; and she loved best the little flowers she had known
at home, and those we used to plant about the door; and
mother said she took comfort in them in the darkest
times."
 Dark times, I knew, my poor friend had had-much
sickness, many deaths, many, many sorrows in her family;
and I was thankful that she had continued to enjoy such
a pleasure as flowers are to those that love them.
 As we approached Mrs. Lyman's, I looked for my
friend, expecting she would come out to meet me, but I
found she was not able to do so; and, when I saw her, I
was struck with the thought that she would never living
leave the house again. She was at first overcome at meet-
ing me; but, after a few moments, she wiped away her
tears, and talked cheerfully.
 "I hoped," she said, "my journey would have done
me good; but I think it has been too much for me. I
have so longed to get back to father's house, and to look
over these hills once more; and though I am weak and
sick, words can't tell how contented I feel. I sit in this
.chair, and look out of this window, and feel as a hungry
man sitting down to a full table. Look there," she con-
tinued, pointing to a cherry-tree before the window, "do
you see that robin? Ever since I can remember, every
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