strand--
But there isn't any music save a little German band.

"I think Sir Peter was perfectly grand!" said Dorothy, as the Admiral
finished his verses. "He was so composed."

"So was the poetry," said the Admiral. "It _had_ to be composed, you
know, or there wouldn't have been any."

"_That_ would have been fine!" remarked the Highlander.

The Admiral got so red in the face at this, that Dorothy thought he was
going into some kind of a fit; but just at this moment there was a sharp
rap at the door, and Sir Walter exclaimed, "_That's_ Bob Scarlet, and
here we are in his flower-bed!"

"Jibs and jiggers!" said the Admiral, "I never thought of that. What do
you suppose he'll do?"

"Pick us!" said the Highlander, with remarkable presence of mind.

"Then tell him we're all out," said the Admiral to Dorothy in extreme
agitation, and with this, the whole Caravan disappeared under the bed
with all possible despatch.

"We _are_ out, you know," said Dorothy to herself, "because there's no
_in_ for us to be in"; and then she called out in a very loud voice,
"We're all out in here!" which wasn't exactly what she meant to say,
after all.

But there was no answer, and she was just stooping down to call through
the keyhole when she saw that the wall-paper was nothing but a vine
growing on a trellis, and the door only a little rustic gate leading
through it. "And, dear me!--where has the furniture gone to?" she
exclaimed, for the curly chairs had changed into flower-pot stands, and
the bed into a great mound of waving lilies, and she found herself
standing in a beautiful garden.

CHAPTER V

BOB SCARLET'S GARDEN

Being in a garden full of flowers at Christmas-time is a very fine
thing; and Dorothy was looking about with great delight, and wondering
how it had all happened, when she suddenly caught sight of a big robin
walking along one of the paths, and examining the various plants with an
air of great interest. He was a very big robin, indeed--in fact, he was
about as large as a goose; and he had on a gardener's hat, and a bright
red waistcoat which he was wearing unbuttoned so as to give his fat
little chest plenty of room; but the most remarkable thing about him was
that he was walking about _with his hands in his waistcoat-pockets_.

Dorothy had never seen a robin do this before, and she was looking at
him in great astonishment, when he chanced to turn around to take a
particular look at a large flower,