She has gone to bed early, that she may wake with the first daylight,
and she is out of bed in a minute when she hears her father's cheerful
call in the morning, "Come, children, it is time to be off."

Their dinner is packed in a large basket. The donkey stands ready
before the door, with great empty bags hanging at each side, and they
go merrily over the crisp white frost to the chestnut-trees. How the
frost has opened the burrs! He has done more than half their work for
them already. How they laugh and sing and shout to each other as they
gather the smooth brown nuts, filling their baskets, and running to
pour them into the great bags! It is merry autumn work. The sun looks
down upon them through the yellow leaves, and the rocks give them
mossy seats; while here and there comes a bird or a squirrel to see
what these strange people are doing in their woods.

Jeannette declares that the chestnut days are the best in the year.
Perhaps she is right. I am sure I should enjoy them, shouldn't you?
She really helps, although she is but a little girl, and her father
says at night that his little Jean is a dear, good child. It makes
her very happy. She thinks of what he has said while she undresses at
night, unbraiding her hair and unlacing her little blue bodice with
its great white sleeves, and she goes peacefully to sleep, to dream
again of the merry autumn days. And while she dreams good angels must
be near her, for she said her sweet and reverent prayer on her knees,
with a full and thankful heart to the All-Father who gave her so many
blessings.

She is our little mountain sister. The mountain life is a fresh and
happy one. I should like to stay with this little sister a long, long
time.