. Miss Lois and her sister were
there, and old Mr. Bounett, and the poet's young wife, and ever so many
others. It was only the other side of the clouds, with their scarlet and
gold and green battlements. She could see the ships sailing into port.
She recalled "Pilgrim's Progress," and Christiana going across. In that
moment of ecstasy she could have gone herself.

Tony came down the road singing "Oh, Susannah;" Ben answered "Hillo!"
and shook himself like a great bear. The two baskets were put into the
waggon.

"Now you girls who are too delicate for a long walk, or too much worn
out by your day's toil, had better hop in. Ann, you go and keep an eye
on Hanny. Now who else?"

They were all pretty tired with their racing about, and the three
smallest ones were picked out, as there was but one horse. The others
formed the rear-guard, and marched on behind, with their arms about
each other. They were too tired for even the tempting game of "tag," or
the ambition of running races.

Mr. Odell was waiting at the uncle's, having come around the other way.
Supper was ready; but he thought they had better be "gettin' on," as
mother would wait supper for them.

Hanny was very tired, and went to bed immediately after the meal.

They had some splendid clam-fritters for breakfast. Ben had proposed to
divide the crabs; but Mr. Odell reckoned, "He'd go crabbing the first
leisure day," and was satisfied with part of the clams.

And then, unexpected delight, Stephen and Dolly and the two babies came
up to dinner. Little Stevie captured everybody, he was so merry and
cunning; and Polly wished they could keep him.

"When he gets to be a big boy, and has a school vacation, I'll be very
glad to send him up, I dare say," was the response.

"But, dear me, we'll be big too," said Polly; "and it won't be any fun."

Dolly told her little sister-in-law all the news, and what everybody was
doing. It seemed as if she had been away so long. Mother had spent a day
with Martha, which she had been promising to do ever since Martha was
married.

The little girl almost wanted to go home with them; but no one invited
her, and she would not have been so silly or ungracious as to plead
homesickness, for she really wasn't homesick a bit.

Then, on Tuesday, Joe came up with a letter from Daisy, who had gone to
some German baths, and was drinking water twice as horrid as that at
Saratoga. The things you had to eat were so very queer; but the musi