September when I opened the schoolroom door, and found them, all the seven,
sitting round the table, waiting to begin school again, for the long summer
holidays were over. I was afraid they would think it rather hard to sit
still and do lessons, especially when the sun was shining brightly and it
was as pleasant a day as could be out of doors; but as I looked at their
bright faces, I thought they did not seem as if they minded coming back to
school so very much after all.

I wonder what you feel like, when the holidays are over and your little
work-a-day world begins again? Does it seem too bad to be true? or are you
just a tiny bit glad to have something that you really must do, instead
of all play and no work? Do you know--and you remember I told you I knew
children pretty well--I have actually met with girls, and boys too, who
have sometimes, especially on a very wet day in the holidays, found this
delightful having nothing to do all day long harder work than the most
difficult of their lessons?

And now for the names of my children. You would like to know them, would
you not? for they are real boys and girls, not children in a story book.

My eldest boy was Ernest, and he sat at the bottom of the table, opposite
the place where I always sat, and where someone had put a chair for me.
Next in age came Charlotte, Ernest's sister; and then Chrissie, the elder
brother of Eustace and Dick. I put Sharley and Chrissie together, because
they were both ten years old and did most of their lessons out of the same
books. Next came another little pair: May, Ernest's younger sister, and
Eustace. Last of all, the little ones: Ernest's youngest brother, Leslie,
and Chrissie's youngest brother, Dick. These little boys were only six
years old.