she stood stamping and crying as hard as she could, but even Dickon began running toward the mile-stone, and what could she do but turn around and run too? She could do nothing else. She ran as fast as her feet would take her, but her feet were tired. The boys' feet were not as tired; the most of them were bigger than hers; they were bigger and not so tired, so they ran faster.

'Lisbeth was left somewhere, I do not know where; left away off on the road carrying her flag, and trotting along at a great rate by herself. This was what she got by taking the boys. She sighed over her mistake, and she concluded that even Dickon would not have cared had she been packed in a bag, and, indeed, it seemed he did not.

To be sure Dickon remembered her after a while, and ran as fast as he could to find her, and see that she was all safe and give her a kiss under her funny little hat to make it all right. But 'Lisbeth felt herself hurt beyond measure, as well she might; only, if people will make mistakes they must take the consequences. If people will choose the boys when they should choose the girls, what can they expect; and if they will want to grow in London instead of wanting to grow where God put them, what can they expect? If we want to be very comfortable we must be contented where we find ourselves.

CHAPTER III.

The boys did not run very, very long before they saw the mill, and the steeple; they chased along the path in high glee after that, and did a great many things beside chasing along the path. But they all got home so long before the mothers came from the mill, that the mothers never knew that they had ever started for London until they were told. You may be sure they were glad that their boys had at length remembered what a naughty, foolish thing they were doing.

But how the girls laughed! You may well know that the girls were pleased enough to see the boys come back. They laughed because the boys had been silly enough to start, and they laughed because they pretended to be amused at their coming back after they had started, but you and I know that they were glad enough that they did come back.

As to 'Lisbeth, she held her head very high when the girls met her. She did not like being laughed at. They asked her a great many questions about London, and asked her why she did not stay, and how she liked the boys for company. It was very trying. Anybody but 'Lisbeth would have cried, or flown in a passion, but 'Lisbeth did not do either. So then the girls stopped laughing at her, and talked of something else. 'Lisbeth would not talk of anything else. She was not contented enough in the place where she grew to talk of anything else yet. She believed the girls would have done better than the boys; that she had made a mistake.

Everybody liked 'Lisbeth. She was not always doing naughty, foolish things like going to London, so the girls were ready to listen to her. She told them how the boys had behaved, and what she thought of them, and how determined she was to go to London, and how she believed that the girls would have behaved better, and invited them to start with her the very next day; and if there ever was a silly little girl in all the world, it was 'Lisbeth.

The girls talked to their mothers that night about 'Lisbeth's invitation, which was just the proper thing to do. The mothers were sorry that 'Lisbeth was not better contented in the place where she found herself; they were so sorry that they concluded to try to make her better contented, so they told the big girls that they might go, but the very little ones must stay at home. A couple of little ones stole away with the rest and came to great trouble afterward, but the larger girls went with 'Lisbeth.

'Lisbeth was delighted the next day when the girls said that they would go; she had been thinking so much about it that she was unhappy.

You should have seen them the next day when they started. They were a pretty party. 'Lisbeth carried no stick this time, but a little basket, and generally managed to keep in front. There were ten of them. I think the old mile-stone would have laughed if it could, when it saw so many sweet faces bend over it to read about the miles, but then, of course, it could not.

'Lisbeth had walked so far, and run so much the day before, that she was tired a little soon; she was even very tired indeed, by the time she reached the mile-stone. No one else thought of being tired, they had been quietly playing at home the day before. 'Lisbeth did not say that she was tired, yet she really was.

The girls' hands were full of flowers, their baskets and arms were full of flowers; they made balls of flowers and played with them as they walked. They left the mile-stone far away; they left the mill and the steeple far out of sight; they came to fields which were new to them. 'Lisbeth grew more tired at every step.

"We must hurry and get there," said 'Lisbeth, and they all hurried; but they could every one hurry faster than 'Lisbeth without getting so tired; all except the little naughty ones who stole away, but even they were not as tired as 'Lisbeth, they had not walked so far and been so tired the day before.

"I know we've come a dreadful long way," said 'Lisbeth; but nobody seemed to think so, they all went on as fast as they could. 'Lisbeth went on as fast as she could.

"I 'most think we've come a hundred miles," said 'Lisbeth.

"Oh no, we have not come many miles at all; it will take us all to-night, and to-morrow, and the next night, and more days and nights besides," said one of the girls, and the rest were all sure it would.

"A hundred miles won't take that many days."

"Yes they will; they will take longer," said one girl, and the rest said so too.

"But we will want supper."

"We cannot have any."

'Lisbeth was not pleased.

"We must have some."

"We cannot have any till we get to London."

'Lisbeth was sure they must have some, but could not think in such a minute how to get it.

"We will fish some up," said 'Lisbeth, looking at the water.

But nobody had any fish-hooks, though there was the water and perhaps the fish.

"We will flim in and catch some," but nobody would allow 'Lisbeth to swim in and catch some.

"We will get some supper from a house."

"We have no money."

'Lisbeth looked down as she walked. She was perplexed.

"We cannot have supper to-night, nor to-morrow night, nor the next night; nor breakfast, nor dinner." 'Lisbeth looked up and smiled; she thought they were making sport about it, but the girls' faces were quite serious; besides, she began to wonder herself where supper and dinner would come from.

"We must hurry most dreadful; the sun is skimming down low," said 'Lisbeth; indeed it began to look late.

"Oh we will walk all night, and all day, and to-morrow night, and the next day and night and—"

"I won't," said 'Lisbeth, very decidedly.

"You must."

"I won't; I'm most dreadful tired now."

"There's no house to sleep in; no, not even in London."

'Lisbeth looked up at the girl in distress, then off in the distance.

"Not even in London!" repeated 'Lisbeth; "not even in London."

'Lisbeth wanted to stand still.

"Come along!" said several voices; but 'Lisbeth did not wish to