"No."
"Let us wait here for a minute, we may see him."
"Oh, no, let's hurry on t' th' Steeple!" So on we hurried.
It took a good deal of courage to enter when we got there, for the far-famed Round Tower of Antrim is private property. Around it is a stone wall enclosing the grounds of an estate. The Tower stands near the house of the owner, and it takes temerity in the poor to enter. They seldom do enter, as a matter of fact, for they are not particularly interested in archeology.
We timidly entered and walked up to the Tower.
"So that's th' Steeple!"
"Isn't it fine?"
"Aye, it's wondtherful, but wudn't it be nice t' take our boots off an' jist walk aroun' on this soft nice grass on our bare feet?"
The lawn was closely clipped and as level as a billiard table. The trees were dressed in their best summer clothing. Away in the distance we caught glimpses of an abundance of flowers. The air was full of the perfume of honeysuckle and sweet clover. Anna drank in the scenery with almost childish delight.
"D'ye think heaven will be as nice?" she asked.