“One!” Uncle Em said, and Gloria drew in whiffs of warm September air. “Two!” Gloria was sure she heard a bird singing--of course, in a tree. “Hurry, hurry!” she said. “Say 'Three,' Uncle Em!” “Th-ree!” It was, after all, not much more than a hole in a wide stretch of green grass, with an uneven wall of bricks defining the excavation. But it was the beginning! The beginning! And trees were dropping gold leaves down upon the men as they worked. The little singing bird was in one of the trees. “Oh!” murmured Gloria, shutting her eyes again, “I can see better with my eyes shut! I can see a beautiful big house, Uncle Em--my house! It's straight and whole and--_happy_. I can see Rose and Hunkie at one of the windows and Sal coming down the stairs. 'Miss Districk,' you're there, too. And Dinney, don't you see, is playing on the grass!” Mary Winship laughed a sweet, indulgent laugh. “Yes, I see all of it, Gloria, just as you do.” She was gazing with the eyes of faith at the small beginning of Gloria's model tenement house. But gentle, prosaic Aunt Em saw only the hole in the ground and the untidy litter around it. “I guess we've seen it all,” Aunt Em said. “I'm afraid Gloria will get too tired, Walter. Oughtn't we to go home now?” “In a minute, dear Aunt Em. Just a little minute more!” pleaded Gloria. “I want to take another look--it's such a beautiful house!” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gloria and Treeless Street by Annie Hamilton Donnell