And with that big Municipal Band a-booming and blaring, and the crowd of our old Organization girls pushing forward, did Branton Hills look good to Nancy? _And did Nancy look good to Branton Hills?_ _What_ a glorious tan, from days and days on shipboard! And was that old Atlantic ugly? Ask Frank, poor chap, who, as on that big Pacific, had found out just what a ship's rail is for! And that stomachs can turn most amazing flip-flops if an old boat is too frisky! In just an instant, actual count, Nancy was in Lady Gadsby's arms, fighting valiantly to hold back a flood of big, happy sobs; and Frank was busy, grabbing a cloud of hands surging towards him. Coming back from a long trip is a happy occasion. And it is also mighty good to put a trunk or a bag down, knowing that it will "stay put" for a day or two, anyway. That constant packing and unpacking on a long trip, soon turns into an automatic function; and how Nancy did worry about what transportation customs in various lands would do to a first class trunk which has a romantic history, owing to its coming as a matrimonial gift from a group of loving girls. But now; _ah!!_ Put it away, and your things around, in familiar disposal. Long trips do bring lots of fun and information; but a truly long trip is tiring, both in body and mind. But Nancy and Frank won't stay with Gadsby long; for, during that trip, a charming bungalow was built on a lot of Gadsby's, facing City Park; and Nancy put in many days arranging things in it. Anybody who has had such joyful work to do, knows how assiduously a young pair would go about it; for two young robins carrying bits of cotton and string up to a criss-cross of twigs in a big oak, with constant soft, loving chirps, "had nothing," according to our popular slang, on Nancy and Frank. Finally "moving in day" got around, with that customary party, to which you carry a gift to add to such things as a young husband on only a small salary can install. And _how_ gifts did pour in!! Rugs, chairs, small stands, urns, clocks, photos in wall mountings, dainty scarfs (all handwork by our girls in our Night School), books, lamps, a "radio" from Station KBH, until, finally, a big truck found an opportunity in that coming and going throng to back in and unload an upright piano, all satin ribbon wrappings, with a card:--"From Branton Hills' Municipal Band." XIII