understand what kind of a place mothers have to
stay in, when they cry. So cheer up, dear, and try to enjoy the
scenery. The trip through the Vale won't last long."

Sara felt a good deal like crying again--but it was like carrying
coals to Newcastle to cry in a place like this! Besides, she was
thinking of what the Teacup had said about mothers. Was it possible
that she brought anything like this on her own dear, self-willed
Mother every time she indulged in a few natural tears?

And the more she thought of it, the more strongly she decided that she
just wouldn't cry. And just at that moment one of those lovely pencils
of sunlight, that looked brighter in this misty green place than
anywhere she had ever been, fell across her path.

"What's that?" she asked the Teacup.

"Why, dear, that comes from the Smiles. They live just over the way,
you know. We'll go by and see them on our way home."

Here was good news, indeed! Sara had never felt more relieved. But at
that very moment she drew back; for she had seen several disheveled,
cross, black-browed children peering at her out of a sort of cave in
the rock. Behind them was a very ill-natured-looking old man.

"Those are the Frowns," said the Teacup, holding Sara's hand
reassuringly. "They live in that cave with their step-father, Old Man
Scowl. Just come on by, as if you didn't notice them. But remember how
they look. And listen to those sighs!"

So that was the doleful noise she had been hearing, up in the little
pine-trees? Sara looked up, and for a minute could see them quite
distinctly--little wispy, gray creatures, blowing about in the wind.
They were better than the Frowns and the Sobs, she decided,--but dear
me! Why should anybody be so dismal?

They had now followed the windings of the little Vale till they came
to a great wall of rock that rose across it. In the rock was an
opening closed by a sagging, worm-eaten door, and in front of the door
hung a rusty black curtain.

"Children don't go in there, dear," said the Teacup, as Sara stood
gazing at it, fascinated. But indeed she had no wish to go in; and it
was with a skip of joy that she heard the First Gunkus say, "Time's up,
Miss!"

At that word, back they all went scampering through the Vale, till
they came to a bridge, which was made of another rainbow. On this
bridge they crossed the stream, and found themselves at the entrance
of a little opening between the hills that shut in the Vale. The
sun