CHILDREN love to listen to stories about their elders, when they were children; to stretch their imagination to the ception of a traditireat-uncle, randame, whom they never saw. It was in this spirit that my little ones crept about, me the other evening to hear about their great-grandmother Field, who lived in a great house in Norfolk (a huimes bigger than that in which they and papa lived) which had been the se -- so at least it was generally believed in that part of the try -- of the tragits which they had lately bee familiar with from the ballad of the Children in the Wood. Certain it is that the whole story of the children and their cruel uncle was to be seen fairly carved out in wood upon the ey-piece of the great hall, the whole story down to the Robin Redbreasts, till a foolish rich Person pulled it down to set up a marble one of modern iion in its stead, with no story upon it. Here Alice put out one of her dear mothers looks, too teo be called upbraiding. Then I went on to say, hious and how good their great. grandmother Field was, how beloved and respected by every body, though she was not ihe mistress of this great house, but had only the charge of it (a in some respects she might be said to be the mistress of it too) itted to her by the owner, who preferred living in a newer and more fashionable mansion which he had purchased somewhere in the adjoining ty; but still she lived in it in a manner as if it had been her own, a up the dignity of the great house in a sort while she lived, which afterwards came to decay, and was nearly pulled down, and all its old ors stripped and carried away to the owners other house, where they were set up, and looked as awkward as if some oo carry away the old tombs they had seen lately at the Abbey, and stick them up in Lady C.s tawdry gilt drawing-room. Here John smiled, as much as to say, "that would be foolish indeed." And then I told how, when she came to die, her funeral was attended by a course of all the poor, and some of the gentry too, of the neighbourhood for many miles round, to show their respect for her memory, because she had been such a good and religious woman; so good ihat she knew all the Psaltery by heart, ay, and a great part of the Testament besides. Here little Alice spread her hands. Then I told what a tall, upright, graceful person their great-grandmother Field once was; and how in her youth she was esteemed the best dancer -- here Alices little right foot played an involuntary movement, till, upon my looking grave, it desisted -- the best dancer, I was saying, in the ty, till a cruel disease, called a cer, came, and bowed her down with pain; but it could never bend her good spirits, or make them stoop, but they were still upright, because she was so good and religious. Then I told how she was used to sleep by herself in a lone chamber of the great lone house; and how she believed that an apparition of two infants was to be seen at midnight gliding up and down the great staircase near where she slept, but she said "those is would do her no harm;" and hhtened I used to be, though in those days I had my maid to sleep with me, because I was never half so good ious as she -- a I never saw the infants. Here John expanded all his eye-brows and tried to look ceous. Then I told how good she was to all her grand-children, having us to the great-house in the holydays, where I in particular used to spend many hours by myself, in gazing upon the old busts of the Twelve Caesars, t