"Where’s the engineer?" asked Mary Jane. "Coming," replied Uncle with a chuckle, "there he is, now." Mary Jane watched an elderly man step aboard the boat and take his place on a queer-looking seat between the wings of the "swan" and much to her surprise he didn’t start any engine: instead he began pedaling as if he was riding a bicycle. The swan boat moved away from the pier and, as the man pedaled, they rode with a slow and stately motion out into the little lake. It was a queer way to ride, being bicycled around a lake in a boat built to look like a swan but Mary Jane loved it. They moved slowly—just like a swan in a fairy tale—and it didn’t take Mary Jane a minute to forget all about Boston and the Commons and to fancy that she was a princess in a fairy tale and that the kind swan was drawing her in a magic boat through her country to visit her subjects. She didn’t see the flower beds by the side of the tiny lagoon; she didn’t see the children playing on the beach; she didn’t hear the talk Mrs. Merrill and Uncle Hal were enjoying; she didn’t even talk to Alice sitting right by her side. Mary Jane saw only the magic of the fairy tale that was in her mind and enjoyed the thrill of being a princess. With a slight bump the swan boat touched the dock and Uncle Hal took her hand to help her off. "Oh, do we have to get off?" she exclaimed in dismay, "we’ve only just begun to ride!" "Like it so well?" asked Uncle Hal, "then you shall have a ride every day while you are here. I remember when I was a little kid and came to visit Boston, I liked them a lot. That’s why I brought you here first thing this morning. But I guess we’ll have to go now if you’re going out to Cambridge with me." Very reluctantly Mary Jane stepped off the boat and with a promise to herself that she would ride again every single time she possibly could, she trudged along behind the others. A short walk brought them to the entrance of the subway. Of course Mary Jane hadn’t an idea what a subway was, for there wasn’t any such thing in any city she had ever lived in or visited, but she gathered from what Uncle Hal said that it must be something that took them out to Cambridge. But such a funny something as it was she never would have imagined! They went down some stairs, through a turnstile and onto a platform. Before Mary Jane’s eyes were used to the queer, half-darkness of the platform, and her nose to the funny, dank smell, there was a rumble and a roar and along came a car. They were crowded aboard and again there was a rumble and roar and away they dashed—past red lights and green lights, past platforms and more platforms till in no time at all (or so it seemed to Mary Jane) they were up on a street, dashing across a long bridge, down again in the ground and Uncle Hal saying, "Time to get off! We’re at Cambridge!" They hurried off and up the stairs to the fresh air.