“Goodness me!” she said again, and this time she jumped up, startling Prince from his nap. “Maybe there is a spell cast over all this place,” she went on. “Everybody has been put to sleep, just like in a fairy story. I don’t know whether a little girl who _isn’t_ asleep can wake ’em up, or whether it must be a prince. “Why, Princey,” she added, looking at the dog, “maybe it will be _you_ that wakes ’em up. Anyway, let’s go and see if we can find _somebody_ that’s alive.” They went out of the yard together and took the dusty road towards the town. They passed the broad front of the church, its windows like so many blind eyes, and the little girl peered timidly over the rusty railing into the neglected churchyard, where many of the headstones were moss-grown and toppling. “This is just the very _deadest_ place,” murmured Carolyn May. “And I guess these folks buried here aren’t much quieter than the live folks. Oh, dear me! these folks here at The Corners don’t look up to brighter things any more than the folks that are under ground. Why, maybe _I’ll_ get that way if I stay here! And I know Papa Cameron wouldn’t approve of _that_!” She sighed, and trudged on in the dust. The perspiration began to trickle down her pink face. The powdery dust rose from beneath her feet and was drifted over the wayside grass and weeds by the fretful breeze. Prince paced on by her side, his nose wrinkling at the strange odours the breeze brought to his nostrils. A toad hopped suddenly out of its ambuscade beside the path, and Prince jumped. “Don’t touch the toad, Princey,” said the little girl. “You know we learned about toads at school—and how good they are. And there was one in Central Park—don’t you ’member?” A minute later, however, as they went on, something flashed into view on the top rail of the boundary fence. It brought a yelp of delight from Prince and a startled cry to Carolyn May’s lips. “A squirrel!” Prince leaped for the fence. With a whisk of its tail, the squirrel went up the hole of the nearest tree, and out on one of the branches, right over their heads. Prince danced about madly in the dust and yelped. “You silly thing, you,” the little girl told him. “You _know_ you can’t climb that tree.” The squirrel chattered angrily overhead. “Now, come away,” Carolyn May commanded. “Don’t you see you’ve made that squirrel mad at you? You’ll _never_ make friends out here in the country, if you act this way, Princey.” Prince seemed little impressed by this prophecy, but he followed after his little mistress and left the squirrel to its own devices. They soon came in sight of the Parlow house and carpenter shop. “We can’t go beyond that,” said Carolyn May. “Aunty Rose told us not to. And Uncle Joe says the carpenter-man isn’t a pleasant man.” She looked wistfully at the premises. The cottage seemed quite as much under the “spell” as had been those dwellings at The Corners. But from the shop came the sound of a plane shrieking over a long board.