es 2 4 Ph bn,
PELE col oh e8 oes ox

  

 

‘“ CARROTS,”

  
 

very glad, but still they had not felt frightened
by her illness. It had come on so slowly and
gradually that they had got accustomed to it,
as children do. They thought it was just the
cold wintry weather that had made her ill
and that when the spring came she would get
better. And when the spring came and she
did get better, they were perfectly satisfied and
happy.

By the end of ¢kzs summer Carrots was
seven years old— no longer in the least a
baby, though he was not tall for his age. He

could read, of course, perfectly, and write a

     
       
 
 

2

 
    
     
      
    
     

little. Now and then he wrote little letters

  
  

to Sybil, in answer to hers; for she was very
particular about getting answers. She was

only just beginning to learn to write; and

    
 
  

sometimes when she got tired of working away
at weal“ sand. Biss anda© sine her
letters, she would dash off into a lot of “ scrib-

   
            
   
 

 
 

ble,” which she said was “children’s writing,”
and “if Carrots didn’t know what it meant he

must be very stupid, as he was a child too.”