"Let's go to Barcelona," suggested Roger a day or two after the circus.
"What's Barcelona?" questioned Ethel Brown.
"Don't you remember Grandmother told us about the fishing village on Lake Erie when we were coming over on the trolley?"
"Helen remembers that because there is some history about it," laughed Ethel. "I know she'll vote for Barcelona."
"I would—I'm crazy to see it—only it seems as if we ought to wait for Uncle Richard to come so that he can go with us."
Ethel Blue's eyes beamed affectionately at her cousin.
"He would like it, wouldn't he?" she said, smiling back.
"Let's go to Panama Rocks, instead," suggested Ethel Brown.
"What are Panama Rocks?" inquired Mrs. Morton.
"The strangest collection of rocks you ever saw, all jumbled together and cleft into miniature canyons. They're about ten miles from here."