k her place.

"Grandmother," said Lois, "this is Mrs. Lenox, whom you have heard me
speak about. And these are my sisters, Madge and Charity, Mrs. Lenox.
And grandmother, this is Mr. Lenox. Now, you see the cart has room
enough," she added, as herself and the gentleman also took their seats.

"Is that the hull of ye?" inquired now the man with the ox whip, coming
forward. "And be all your stores got in for the v'yage? I don't want to
be comin' back from somewheres about half-way."

"All right, Mr. Sears," said Lois. "You may drive on. Mother, are you
comfortable?"

And then there was a "whoa"-ing and a "gee"-ing and a mysterious
flourishing of the long leathern whip, with which the driver seemed to
be playing; for if its tip touched the shoulders of the oxen it did no
more, though it waved over them vigorously. But the oxen understood,
and pulled the cart forward; lifting and setting down their heavy feet
with great deliberation seemingly, but with equal certain'ty, and
swaying their great heads gently from side to side as they went. Lois
was so much amused at her guests' situation, that she had some
difficulty to keep her features in their due calmness and sobriety.
Mrs. Lenox eyed the oxen, then the contents of the cart, then the
fields.

"Slow travelling!" said Lois, with a smile.

"Can they go no faster?"

"They could go a little faster if they were urged; but that would spoil
the comfort of the whole thing. The entire genius of a ride in an ox
cart is, that everybody should take his ease."

"Oxen included?" said Mr. Lenox.

"Why not?"

"Why not, indeed!" said the gentleman, smiling. "Only, ordinary people
cannot get rid easily of the notion that the object of going is to get
somewhere."

"That's not the object in this case," Lois answered merrily. "The one
sole object is fun."

Mrs. Lenox said nothing more, but her face spoke as plainly as
possible, And you call _this_ fun!

"I am enjoying myself very much," said Mrs. Barclay. "I think it is
delightful."

Something in her manner of speech made Mr. Lenox look at her. She was
sitting next him on the cart bottom.

"Perhaps this is a new experience also to you?" he said.

"Delightfully new. Never rode in an ox cart before in my life; hardly
ever saw one, in fact. We are quite out of the race and struggle and
uneasiness of the world, don't you see? There comes down a feeling of
repose upon one, softly, as Longfellow says--

'As a feather i