MES. MODESTY AND THE MAGNIFYING GLASS. 47

King’s highway was a turnstile, on one of the posts of which was
written,

“A short cut to the Blue Mountains.”

When Cowslip saw this lovely tempting meadow, and the stile
with the words written on it, she could not help laughing for joy.

“How glad I am,” she said, looking at her brother; “I never
knew until my eyes rested on this lovely path how steep and un-
pleasant the road was on which we are now walking. Come along,
Clover; come through the stile, and let us walk down that path with
all the sweet flowers.”

“T feel afraid of it somehow,” said Clover. “For all we can tell
it may not be the right road. I will take out my magnifying glass
and have a good look at it; then if I see the red cross on this stile,
and if I see the stile marked on the King’s chart, I shall be very
glad, too, to walk in this road.”

“ Well, be quick,” said Cowslip. “Iam almost sorry, Clover, that
Faith gave you that magnifying glass, for it is such a worry never
to be able to do a pleasant thing without your using it as a sort
of test.”

“T must,’ said Clover. ‘“ You know, Cowslip, the object of this
journey is not pleasure; it is to get home—to our beautiful home
beyond the Blue Mountains.”

“I know that,” said Cowslip, “but I cannot help being tired of
this ugly road. Oh, dear Clover, what is the matter? How very
pale you look.”

Clover’s face had indeed turned ghastly pale. Beads of perspira-
tion stood on his forehead, and he put up one hand to wipe them
away.

“T cannot find it,’ he exclaimed, searching in all his pockets
frantically as he spoke.

“Cannot find what? ” asked his sister.

“The glass—the magnifying glass that Faith gave me, and the
map that the King sent. Oh, Cowslip, Cowslip, what shall I do?
—both the glass and the map are gone. They must have been stolen
from me while I slept.”