"How are you going to do it without the looking-glass to tell you?"
"Use my own eyes, to be sure!"
"Whose eyes do you use when you look in a glass?" said Greta.
Martin looked puzzled, and had no reply ready; and Will thought his cousin Greta very clever, although she was a girl, and a year younger than himself.
But Martin soon recovered his composure.
"What lots of flowers!" was his next comment. "They are everywhere, except in this brick pavement, and nothing could grow here, it is so clean."
"And such pretty houses in the gardens!" said Will.
"But they are so small," said Martin, "It would take a dozen of them to make a New York house."
"My goodness!" said Greta, turning her head back as far as she could, and looking at the sky. "How do you ever see up to their roofs?"
"Divide Martin's twelve by four, and you will come nearer the truth," said Will, laughing. "But, at any rate, the houses are pretty—painted green and yellow, with red-tiled roofs."