“Whenever we see an ash tree or olives, how much there will be to think of!”

CHAPTER VII.

THE USEFUL BIRCH.

“Oh, Miss Harson!” called out Clara, in great excitement, as she caught up with her governess on a run; “hasn’t Edie poisoned herself?  She has been eating this twig.”

Edith, of course, at once began to cry.

“You are not poisoned, dear,” said Miss Harson, very quickly, after trying the twig herself; “for this is birch-wood, and it cannot possibly hurt you.  But remember, Edie, that this must not happen again; never put anything to your mouth unless you know it to be harmless.  The birds and squirrels and other animals that are obliged to pick up their own living as soon as they are able to use their limbs have the faculty given them of knowing what is good for them to eat, but little girls are not intended to live in the woods, and they cannot tell whether or not the things they find there are fit to eat.”

“I took only a little bit,” sobbed Edith; “Clara snatched it away as soon as it tasted good.”

Malcolm laughingly tossed his little sister into a sort of evergreen cradle where the branches grew low—­for they were enjoying an afternoon in the woods—­and held her there securely, while their governess replied,

“‘A little bit’ is too much of a thing that might be harmful.  You must remember to ‘touch not, taste not, handle not,’ until you have asked permission.  But I am going to let you all chew as many birch-shoots as you want, and I too shall chew some; for when I was a little girl, I used to think they were ‘puffickly d’licious.’”

The children were much amazed to think that Miss Harson had ever talked like Edith—­indeed, the two older ones could scarcely believe that they once did so themselves; but all soon had their hands full of birch-twigs, and they began gnawing like so many squirrels.  All approved of the “birchskin,” as Edith called it, and Malcolm declared that “it would be grand fun to live in the woods all the time.”

“Couldn’t we have a tent, Miss Harson,” asked Clara, “and try it?”

“I have no doubt,” was the reply, “that your indulgent papa would have a tent put up here for you if he thought it would make you happier, but I have my doubts as to whether it would do so.  In the first place, I should object very much to living in the tent with you, and how could you possibly live there alone?”

Clara and Edith were quite sure that they could not get along without their friend and governess, but Malcolm thought he would like to try being a hermit or an Indian, he was not quite ready to say which.

“While you are deciding,” said Miss Harson, with a smile, “it may be as well for us to go on as usual; but I think that a little tent could be put up here somewhere, which we might enjoy for an hour or so on pleasant days.  I will see about it.”