"Ain't it a comfort, Mrs. March," said Mrs. Plummer, "how children always do take to new places?"
"We don't either," cried Rob; "I hate some places I've seen. But this is splendid. Just you look at those rocks: you bet I'll pitch 'em down! I'm going up on to every one of the highest rocks I can find."
"Oh, Rob! you'll break your neck," said Mrs. March. "I shall not allow you to climb, unless your father is with you."
"Now, mamma"—Rob was beginning when, suddenly catching sight of a house, he exclaimed:—
"There 'tis! That's like the picture. And there's the barn! I saw it first! Oh, hurry! hurry!" And in his excitement Rob stood up in the wagon.
Yes, there it was. It had looked better in the photograph which Mr. Garland had showed to Mr. March than it did in reality. It was a small, unpainted pine house; without any piazza or blinds. The windows were small; the front door was very small; there was no fence between it and the road; and all the ground around it had been left wild. It was really a desolate-looking place.
"Why, there isn't any yard!" exclaimed Nelly.
"Yard!" said her mother; "why, it is all yard, child. As far as you can see in every direction, it is all our yard."
Mrs. March's heart had really sunk within her at the sight of the place. The house was nothing more than she would have called a shanty at home; but she was resolved, no matter what happened to them, never to let her husband see that she found any thing hard. So she spoke cheerfully about the yard; and, as they were getting out of the wagon, she said:—
"How nice and open it is here! See, Robert, the sun is still an hour high, I should think. This is a lovely place."