A big comfortable limousine came round the bend of the road. The driver alighted, and came forward. “Here I am at last, Miss Maida,” he said, his hand to his cap. “Oh good afternoon, Botkins,” Maida greeted him. She introduced him to Granny Flynn and Mrs. Dore; then to the children. “I’m sorry I was late, ma’am,” Botkins said to Granny Flynn, “but I nearly ran over a dog in the road. I stopped to see if it was all right.” “And was it?” Rosie Brine, who had a passion for animals, asked eagerly. “Right as a trivet,” Botkins answered. “What is a trivet, Maida?” Rosie asked in a mystified aside. “I’ll show in a few minutes, goose,” Maida rejoined. “It’s an English word.” Botkins, who was English also, began stowing the party away in the automobile: Granny Flynn and Mrs. Dore on the back seats; Betsy and Delia between them; and Mollie and Timmie at their feet. Maida and Laura each holding a very active Clark twin, occupied the little seats. Rosie, to her great delight, was permitted to sit with the driver. The three boys hung onto the running board. “We look like an orphan-asylum,” Arthur commented as, with a long call of warning from the horn, they started off. The road stretched straight before them, wide and yellow, furred with trees on both sides; then vanished under an arch of green as it turned to the left. “Aren’t there any houses in Satuit, Maida?” Laura asked. “Plenty,” Maida answered. “We’ll come to some in a minute--then to more. In a little while, we’ll go right through the town.” For a few moments nobody spoke; just watched for the first house. Presently a little white farmhouse, gambrel-roofed and old, popped into view at one side. “Oh did you see that lovely old well with the long pole?” Rosie exclaimed from the front seat. “That’s a well-sweep,” Maida explained. “It has a bucket at one end.” “Oh see the ponies! One, two, three, four, five--” but the car shot Laura past before she had all the ponies counted. “Gee, look at all those hens!” came from Arthur. “Must be a hundred!” And then followed a chorus of “Oh sees!” The beautiful big barn with its wide doors! The lovely little pond covered with lily pads: The trim little vine-covered summer house perched on the hill! Bee hives! The old grave yard! And, “See the moo-cow!” piped up Betsy Hale and “Tee the moo-tow!” Delia, as usual mimicked her. Timmie did not speak; but his big eyes, made bigger by wonder, mirrored everything. “There’s the town!” Maida said finally and again for a few moments there was silence. The town manifested itself at first only by scattered farmhouses. But these began to draw closer and closer together until, finally, they seemed almost to huddle about the beautiful little white church standing amidst rows of old lichen-covered slate gravestones, and pointing with a slender, delicately-cut-and-carved, white spire at the blue sky. Stores were here too, a moving picture house; a small inn; a post office; a garage.