“Why James Osgood! Where ever did you learn such words—‘rook’ and the like?” gasped his sister.
“Oh, I’m going to be a thorough American, now,” laughed Jimmy, recklessly. “Mrs. Alex has agreed to take me West with her on her return, and let me run a ranch in Colorado.”
“What will mother say to that?” wailed Angela, as this was not what she had hoped for.
“Don’t worry, Angela dear,” quickly said Mrs. Alexander, soothingly. “Jimmy is only joking. I told him about our ranches but I have no idea of taking him away from England.” Neither had she.
At Glastonbury the tourists stopped to see the “Inne of ye Pilgrims” which proved to be very old and most interesting. Here King Henry the VIII and Abbot Whiting’s rooms are maintained with the old furnishings as in that long-past day.
Pictures were taken of the quaint Gothic carving on the front of the building, and then Mr. Fabian led them to inspect the ruined abbey which King Arthur favored above all other spots.
As the cars sped over the good hard roads, past little cottages with the most attractive thatched-roofs whose dormer windows were set deep back in the thatch, the tourists were delighted.
“Such lovely little places,” sighed Ruth, as she admired the rose-vines climbing high upon the roof of a place.
“Just big enough for two!” whispered Jimmy, for his “heart’s desire” was beside him on the front seat, once more.
“I wonder why American architects do not copy these lovely thatched roofs for us, more generally,” wondered Polly.