"Sarah," said Gypsy, sleepily, just as Sarah was beginning to dream. "A feather-bed, and--and _pil_lows! (with a little jump to keep awake long enough to finish her sentence) are a little better--on the whole--than a mud--pud----" Just there she went to sleep. The next day it poured from morning till night. That was just what Mr. Hallam and Tom liked, so they fished all day, and the girls amused themselves as best they might in Mr. Fisher's barn. The day after it rained in snatches, and the sun shone in little spasms between. A council of exigencies met in Mr. Hallam's tent, and it was unanimously decided to go home. Even Gypsy began to long for civilized life, though she declared that she had never in all her life had such a good time as she had had that week. So Mr. Fisher harnessed and drove them briskly down the mountain, and "from afar off" Gypsy saw her mother's face, watching for her at the door--a little anxious; very glad to see her back. CHAPTER XI GYPSY'S OPINION OF BOSTON Just at the end of the vacation, it was suddenly announced that Miss Melville was not going to teach any more. "How funny!" said Gypsy. "Last term she expected to, just as much as anything. I don't see what's the reason. Now I shall have to go to the high school." It chanced that they were remodelling some of the rooms at the high school, and the winter term, which would otherwise have commenced in September, was delayed till the first of October. Gypsy had jumped on all the hay-cocks, and picked all the huckleberries, and eaten all the early Davises, and gone on all the picnics that she could, and was just ready to settle down contentedly to school and study; so the news from Miss Melville was not, on the whole, very agreeable. What to do with herself, for another long month of vacation, was more than she knew. She wandered about the house and sat out among the clovers and swung on the gate, in a vague, indefinite sort of way, for two weeks; then one morning Mrs. Breynton read her a letter which set her eyes on fire with delight. It was an invitation from her aunt to spend a fortnight in Boston. It so happened that Gypsy had never been to Boston. It was a long day's journey from Yorkbury, and Mr. Breynton was not much in favor of expensive travelling for the children while they were very young; arguing that the enjoyment and usefulness would be doubled to them when they were older. Besides, Gypsy's uncle, though he was her father's brother, had seldom visited Yorkbury. His business kept him closely at home, and his wife and daughter always went to the seaside in summer; so the two families had seen very little of each other for years. Mrs. Breynton, however, thought it best Gypsy should make this visit; and Gypsy, who had lived twelve years in a State which contained but one city, considered going to Boston very much as she would have considered going to Paradise.