“Oh did you see that lovely old well with the long pole?” Rosie exclaimed from the front seat.
“That’s a well-sweep,” Maida explained. “It has a bucket at one end.”
“Oh see the ponies! One, two, three, four, five—” but the car shot Laura past before she had all the ponies counted.
“Gee, look at all those hens!” came from Arthur. “Must be a hundred!”
And then followed a chorus of “Oh sees!” The beautiful big barn with its wide doors! The lovely little pond covered with lily pads: The trim little vine-covered summer house perched on the hill! Bee hives! The old grave yard!
And, “See the moo-cow!” piped up Betsy Hale and “Tee the moo-tow!” Delia, as usual mimicked her.
Timmie did not speak; but his big eyes, made bigger by wonder, mirrored everything.
“There’s the town!” Maida said finally and again for a few moments there was silence.
The town manifested itself at first only by scattered farmhouses. But these began to draw closer and closer together until, finally, they seemed almost to huddle about the beautiful little white church standing amidst rows of old lichen-covered slate gravestones, and pointing with a slender, delicately-cut-and-carved, white spire at the blue sky. Stores were here too, a moving picture house; a small inn; a post office; a garage.
Then the road turned suddenly and for an instant it was almost as though their speed would take them across the broad stretch of a velvety green lawn into the blue harbor which expanded beyond. This harbor bore here and there white-sailed boats. Not far away, a boy was fishing from the side of a dory. There was a chorus of delighted ohs and ahs from the car. But their speed did not abate for a moment.