after the rain, so that when breakfast was over, Herbert and Caroline, with the large dog Neptune, lost not a moment in setting out for a long ramble into the country. At first Herbert seemed to remember his words of the previous evening, and was very kind to Caroline, helping her carefully over the stepping-stones at the river, instead of frightening her as he used to do. Then he always held open the gates of the different fields they passed through, shutting them after her, instead of making her do it. He even stopped throwing stones at a wounded bird in a field when he saw it distressed her, though he laughed at her for being such a simpleton as to care for a half-dead bird. This recalled to his mind a circumstance that had happened at school, when he and some of his schoolfellows had gone for a walk into the country one half-holiday; and he began to relate how they had caught a pigeon sitting on its nest up a tree, and how, regardless of its fluttering and piteous cries, they had carried it off, and its nest also. Then he told with much laughter how they had unearthed a mole, and how they had tied it to a stick and made it a target to fling stones at, till it had died by inches; no doubt, as Caroline supposed, having suffered great torture. Losing all command of herself, she cried out, "O Herbert, how could you, could you be so cruel! It is quite true what mamma says, you are nothing but a coward, to hunt a dumb creature, a poor blind animal, so."

A MISCHIEVOUS PAIR.

At these words Herbert flew into a passion, and told Caroline she might find her way home the best way she could, for that he would not walk any more with her; and away he ran, with Neptune at his heels. When he was a few yards off, he turned and cried out, "I hope you won't meet with Farmer Brown's bull, that's all; and that you won't find the stepping-stones difficult, now that your coward isn't there to help you."

Caroline thought that he was only doing this to frighten her, and expecting he would return in a short time, she sat down by the brink of the river, wondering how boys could be so cruel to God's creatures. Boys were taught by their parents to be kind to animals, just as their sisters were; yet, as they grew up, they forgot all about it,—at least, very many of them did; and they seemed to try who would do the most cruel thing. She sat trying to think of a plan to make her brother Herbert kind and gentle; and again it came into her mind how by her own hastiness she had made him angry just when he was doing everything to please her. "It was so very dreadful of him to hurt the poor blind mole," she said aloud; "I could not help speaking out; only I need not have called him a coward. I might have shown him how bad his conduct was in a gentler way; but, as nurse and mamma say, I am always so hasty."

Caroline having sat a long time, began to think that Herbert really did not mean to come for her; and fearing her mamma would be alarmed if she did not return with Herbert in time for dinner, she turned back along the path they had come, walking as fast as she could. After passing through two fields, and managing to open and shut the gates with some difficulty, she was alarmed by hearing a loud roar, which she guessed must come from Farmer Brown's bull. She nearly fell down with terror, for the bull had a very bad character for goring people, and had only the week before hurt a little boy very seriously. Collecting all her courage, she crept round by the side of the hedge. Fortunately the bull had his head turned in the opposite direction, so that she managed to pass him and get out of the field without being seen by him. At the stepping-stones she stopped, afraid to venture over; but a man came up, who kindly offered to take her across.

Going round by a field-path that led to her home past Farmer Brown's farm, she saw a little girl sitting under a tree, whom she at once guessed must be little Martha, the farmer's only child. She was gazing up at a flight of pigeons that went fluttering over the houses before they lighted down upon the roof of the barn. Caroline had often seen Martha at church, and once or twice nurse had taken her to the farm, when she had gone to see Mrs. Brown; so she stopped to ask the little girl what she was looking at so earnestly.

"I'm looking at the pigeons, miss," said little Martha, rising to drop a courtesy to the young lady from the Hall.

"They seem to be all pure white," said Caroline, sitting down on the roots of the tree, and bidding Martha take her seat again. "They are very pretty."

LITTLE MARTHA.

"Yes, miss, they are pretty," said Martha, looking with pride at her favourites; "but they are not all white; there be two of them blue, and I'm so sorry for it."

"Why, what makes you sorry for the blue ones?" said Caroline, smiling. "Don't you like blue ones?"

"Oh yes, I like them very much," said Martha, "but father doesn't; and he's going to shoot them to-night."

"Oh, how cruel of him," said Caroline; "you must ask him not to do it, Martha. They cannot help being blue, you know."

Martha looked a little distressed at the idea of her kind father being considered cruel by the young lady, but she didn't know very well how to answer her. "Father doesn't mean to be cruel, miss," said Martha; "but he likes all the pigeons to be white; and if a blue one comes he shoots it. I will ask father not to shoot them, and perhaps he won't."

"Oh yes, please do ask him," replied Caroline; "and tell him if he only could catch them, and send them down to me, I would give him my new shilling papa gave me on my birth-day. Tell him to be sure and not to shoot them."

Martha went off at once to look for her father, but as he had gone away to a distant part of the farm, Caroline had to be content to await his return, and leaving the matter in Martha's hands for the present, proceeded on her way homewards.

When she arrived at home, she was very glad to find that her mamma had not returned from town; so that, unless Caroline told her, she could not know of Herbert's bad behaviour; and Caroline was determined to keep it secret.

If Mrs. Ashcroft saw that the children were not such good friends as they had been that morning, she took no notice of it, and during dinner spoke more to their papa than to them. But towards the end she turned to Caroline and said, "Who do you think is coming to pay you a visit of a few days? Well, I shall tell you, as I see you cannot guess. Your two cousins, Lizzie and Charles."

Caroline was very much pleased to hear this, for she loved her cousins very much; but her brother did not, for Charles was a well-behaved boy, one or two years younger than Herbert, and would never join in any of his tricks against the girls. When they arrived next morning, they went off at once to see Caroline's pet hen and chickens; and though Herbert went with them, he stood aside with his hoop dangling on his arm, and with a look of contempt on his face at his cousin Charlie's delight at the sight of the chickens. Living in a town as Charles and Lizzie did, everything belonging to the country was new and delightful; and it was not till all