13.  “I’ll write about the sunset, then,” said she, and the pencil began to move rapidly across the paper.  In a few moments she said, “Mother, shall I read you what I have written?” “No, not now,” answered her mother; “I am going into the dining room.  You may sit and write until I return.”

14.  As Susie went on writing, she became very much interested in her occupation, and for a time forgot all about the dreaded composition.  She wrote about the sunset clouds, the appearance of the distant hills, the trees, the river, the garden with its gay flowers, and the birds flying past the window.

15.  Just as she had reached the bottom of the page, her mother came in.  “Well, Susie,” said she, with a smile, “how does that composition come on?” “Composition!” exclaimed Susie; “you told me not to think about my composition, and I have not thought of it once; I have had such a nice time writing about what I could see from the window.”

16.  Mrs. Smith took the paper and read aloud what Susie had written:  “I am sitting on a low seat at the bay window, one half of which is open, so that I can smell the sweet flowers in the garden.  The sky is all bright with sunset; I can see purple, and pink, and golden.  I do not believe that anyone on earth has a paint box with such lovely colors in it.”

17.  “I can see one cloud, far above the rest, that looks like a ship sailing in the blue sea.  I should like to sail on a cloud, if it would not make me dizzy.  Now, while I have been writing, the clouds have changed in color and form, but they are just as beautiful as they were before.”

18.  “The green hills are tipped with light, and look as if they were wearing golden crowns.  I can see a river a great way off, and it looks quite still, although I know it is running as fast as it can to get to the ocean.”

19.  “The birds are flying past the window to go home and take care of their little ones.  I am glad the birds are not afraid to live in our garden, and to build nests in our trees.”

20.  “Our garden is full of flowers—­pinks, lilies, and roses.  Mother calls this the month of roses.  My birthday will come in a week, and we can have all the flowers we wish for wreaths and bouquets.”

21.  “There, Susie,” said Mrs. Smith, “that is a very nice composition, indeed.”  “A composition!” exclaimed Susie, “is that a composition?” “Yes, my dear, and a very good one, too,” replied her mother.  “When it hasn’t even a subject?”

22.  “We can find one for it, and I do not doubt it will please your teacher, as it does me.  You see, my dear,” continued her mother, “that it is easy enough to write if you have anything interesting to write about.”

23.  The next morning Susie copied her composition very neatly, and started to school with a happy heart, saying, as she gave her mother a kiss, “Just think how funny it is, dear mother, that I should have written so long a composition without knowing it.”