“CARROTS.”

with a smile; and sure enough, in about half
an hour the trio reappeared again, and came
to a standstill, as usual, opposite our window.
And, instead of a lamb, each trot hugged a
little parcel, neatly done up in white paper.
I opened the window to hear what they were -
Saying, they looked so excited.

“Takes for tea!” they both called out at
once ; “takes, for tea! Lady have one! Dip
have one!”

And poor Bessie was obliged to open the
parcels, and extract one “take” from each,
and hand them up to me, before my little
dears would be satisfied.

Can you fancy that I really got to love the
trots? I did not want to know who they were,
or what sort of a father and mother they had,
—they were well taken care of, that was evi-
dent, —for somehow, knowing anything more
about them would have spoilt them for being
my funny little trots.

But for several weeks of the three months
we spent at St. Austin’s, the sight of these