IN WINTER LAND. 157

When Buttercup heard these tones he dried the tears in his
eyes and ran into the house.

“T know I am an hour behind my time,’ he said to Mrs.
Discipline. “I followed a robin, and I got lost in the wood. I
suppose you are dreadfully, dreadfully angry!”

“Hat your dinner,’ said Mrs. Discipline—‘“there it is—hot
potatoes and thick milk; eat as much as you please, and don’t
question me.”

“ But aren’t you dreadfully angry with me ? ”

“ Hat your dinner, and stop talking.”

Buttercup thought it best to obey without saying anything more.
He was so hungry that this very plain dinner tasted quite delicious
to him. He finished it all up, and then Mrs. Discipline went to
the window and looked out.

“The sky is clearing,” she said. “There is a great deal of snow
still on the ground, but I do not think much more will fall. You
had better be getting ready to go.”

“To go where?” asked Buttercup.

“On a ae to my father. Here is a parcel which you are to
take with you.”

Mrs. Discipline falled: to a cupboard as she spoke, opened the
door, and taking out a long and very slender packet, handed it to
the little boy. ‘There was a look about her face which caused poor
Buttercup’s heart to sink very, very low indeed.

“T don’t know where your father lives,” he faltered, ‘ and J—I—
oh! please don’t send me to him.”

““T have no choice in the matter,’ said Mrs. Discipline. “ You
broke your word to me, and you must go—you did something
when you were out this morning which leads you straight to my
father’s house: I have no power in the matter.”

“But where is your father’s house ?”

“Come here to the window, and I will show you. Do you see
that steep hill over there ?”

“That high hill with all the snow over it?”

“Yes, that is the hill I mean. It is not quite so steep when you