Mother says you won't understand about the story, and she says we must tell it you when we get home.

So we will, only perhaps we sha'n't remember.

Do you do lessons now?
We don't do any--only when it rains.

Milly's writing a letter to Jacky--mine's much longer than hers.
Your little friend, OLLY.
Then came the putting up the letters, addressing them, and stamping them, all of which the children enjoyed very much, and by the time they were laid on the hall table ready to go to the post it was nearly dinner-time.
How the beck did roar that afternoon.

And when the children looked out from the drawing-room window they could see a little flood on the lawn, where the water had come over the side of the stream.