Once more, in front of him, sounded the music, but clearer and louder, as if it were only round the corner—but there was no corner.
THERE STOOD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE HOUSE
He found himself in a narrow, shady glade. The trees, the grass, everything was a cool, delicious green. It was like looking down a long tunnel lighted by a soft green light. The little path went straight down-hill as far as one could see, and never seemed to end.
George was beginning to wonder where he was going to, and if he had not wanted to find out about the music he would have turned back, for it felt like tea-time. He could not remember at what hour he had started out; nor how he had got into the wood; nor did he know how he was going to find his way back. But he knew that it was close upon tea-time, which is quite a different feeling from breakfast and lunch-time, as you all know.
"I wish there was a house here," he thought. "I should like tea with plenty of jam and cake."
There was really no end to the surprises of this most wonderful day. The path went straight—as if it had been told—into a wide open space, and there stood a delightful little house with smoke curling up from its chimneys.
George stood still for a moment and looked at it with eyes wide open in surprise. Alexander rushed forward, barking joyfully, and jumped against the door.
George followed him, and then stood still again, for painted on the door in tiny letters was GEORGE'S HOUSE.
"How funny!" he thought. "There must be another George living here. I hope he will be kind and give me tea."