The teacher has curled herself up against the roots of the tree, and has a piece of work in her hands; but her eyes are wandering dreamily over the lovely scene before her, and she looks as if she were really too comfortable to move even a finger.

The scholar lies at her feet, face downwards, his chin propped on his hands, his head bobbing up and down.

The silence is only broken by the noise of the waterfall and the persistent chirping of some very cheerful little bird.
Presently the boy raised his head and cried joyfully, "I've fetched him, Miss Hildy! I know it, now, jest like pie!" Whereupon he stood up, and assuming a military attitude, submitted to a severe geographical catechising, and came off with flying colors.
"That was a very good recitation," said Hilda, approvingly, as she laid the book down.

"You shall have another ballad to-day as a reward.

But, Bubble," she added, rather seriously, "I do wish you would not use so much slang.