“ʾTis a pretty sight, neighbour, is't not?”

This question was asked by one of two women, who stood together beside a cottage entrance, on the borders of a wood, enjoying an afternoon gossip. The speaker pointed towards the cottage window, upon which the rays of the western sun were pouring their beams, tempered by the green leaves and boughs of the surrounding trees through which the light made its way. She who was addressed, advanced towards the casement, and looked in. Within the room, were two ladies, seated near the open window. One of them had her eyes fixed upon the other, on whose lap lay two infants,—a babe on either arm, both cherub faces closely pressed against her bosom, while both at once, drew thence their sweet milken meal. The eyes of the one lady expressed tenderest interest in the gentle task she watched, mingled perhaps with a shadow of regret that it could not be hers to share; while on the face of the lady who nursed the babes, there sat that divine expression, which no other earthly task inspires, of so pure, so holy, so benign a character.