was quite ready, we got upon the top of the coach, and soon left the inn and our dinnerfield behind us.

We had not been long on the coach before we left something else behind us. The wind seemed to blow more fiercely than it had done all the morning; and while we were thinking and talking about other things, away went George's straw-hat.

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"Stop, stop!" shouted George; and "Stop, stop!" said George's father. George said "Stop, stop," to the hat, which did not mind him in the least; but George's father said Stop, stop," to the coachman; and the coachman heard him, and looked back to see what was the matter. He soon understood it all when he saw his little passenger without a hat, and his hair blowing about in the wind; and he pulled the reins and made the horses stop. Then George's father let himself down from the coach, and ran back after the hat, which was merrily blowing back again along the road. At last, the hat was caught; and father, almost out of breath with his long race, got upon the coach again, and put the hat upon his little boy's head. After this, George took care to hold it tight, lest it should blow away again.

And oh, the large orchards which we passed, full of apple trees and cherry-trees loaded with fruit! I think you would have liked to have seen them; for though we have apple

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trees in our garden at home, they have but little fruit on them this year; and our cherries, you know, are nearly all gone. We saw one orchard in which men were gathering cherries. They had long ladders to reach to the tops of the tall trees; and there were several large baskets full of fruit already gathered. I suppose they were going to send these cherries to market.

Presently we passed by a hop-garden; but there were no hops to be seen; it was too early in the season for them. The hops will not be grown and ready to be picked until October, which, you know, is four months later in the year than June.

After we had been riding on the coach more than an hour, we came to a small town where one of your uncles lives. We had not time to go to see him, but he came running to the coach to see us; and when it stopped for the horses to be changed, he stayed and talked with us. He was very glad to see his little nephew; and he did an act of kindness for him which was very useful to George; for when we told him about the race we had for the hat, and how troubled brother was to keep it tight upon his head, he ran and got a nice piece of string, and fastened the hat to your brother's coat, so that it could not be again blown away. This was a great relief to George; for his arm ached with holding his hat.

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At length we were obliged to bid good bye to your uncle; for the horses were changed, and ready to trot away with the coach. And away we went, over rough roads and smooth

roads, up hill and down hill, sometimes through villages and then through woods, until George was tired of sitting so long, and almost fell asleep. At length we reached the end of this part of our journey. The coach stopped, and we got down at the pretty little village in which your uncle Henry lives.

George was glad of this; for he had travelled a long way for such a little boy; and he was glad, too, to see his uncle and aunt, who had got ready for him a nice basin of bread and milk.

But our journey was not yet ended; we had not reached grandfather's house, which

CHAPTER V.

THE FIRST DAY AT GRANDFATHER'S. "FATHER, I think that is a very long letter you are writing."

"I shall soon have finished it," said George's father. 66 But, you know, I promised your sister I would write a long letter to her; and I think you would not wish to deprive her of it, would you?"

"No, father; only-only I am tired of looking at these books. I should like to go out into the garden."

"Well, you may go into the garden; and when I have done writing I will come to you there."

George went into the garden; and there he found his grandmother, who walked and talked with him until his father had written the letter.

This was the morning after the journey; and George had not so far got over the fatigue of it as to care to take a long walk. Mr. Hardy, therefore, had chosen this time for writing the promised letter to his little Emma.

As soon as George saw his father coming towards him in the garden, he left his grandmother's side, and ran to him shouting with great glee, "Oh, father, you do not know what I have eaten, do you?"