"Thank you so _very_ much," said Alice gratefully as the gates were again locked up, "that picture will be fine to take to school ’cause I’m studying American history." "Then you want to notice that hill," said one workman, pointing to a hill close by. It wasn’t such a very high hill but the sides were steep and grass covered and it was close to the shore. "That is the hill you will read about," continued the man. "After that hard winter when so many of the Pilgrims died, the bodies of the dead were buried there and the Pilgrims planted corn over the top, so the Indians would not guess it was a cemetery and find out how very many had died. You must walk up that hill," he advised Alice, "so you can tell your class about it when you get back." "We certainly will," replied Alice gratefully, "and thank you for telling us about it." They crossed the street and climbed the wooden stairway up the hill. On the top was an inn where a sign announced that luncheon was served, but the girls didn’t care for anything so modern. Fortunately Mrs. Merrill had had the hotel put up a fine luncheon for them, so they wouldn’t have to waste time eating indoors. As it was now nearly noon and the girls were very hungry, she suggested that they sit on some benches halfway up the hill and eat now, where they could enjoy seeing Plymouth, the ocean and the historic hill. That seemed a splendid idea, and the girls agreed that never had fried chicken and sandwiches tasted as good as on Plymouth Hill. "I do feel awfully selfish though," Mary Jane said as she polished off a drumstick, "to have such a good lunch at the very same place where folks died ’cause they didn’t have enough to eat." "I don’t feel so selfish as I do thirsty," said Alice. "Now if I only had a drink—" "No doubt we can find one," replied Mrs. Merrill. "If you’ve eaten all you wish, we can put the papers and scraps in that trash basket over there and walk on. Surely we’ll find a drink soon." They walked along the street, passing many an old curiosity shop where Alice would have loved to linger and price old candlesticks and bellows and chairs and all the curious wares she could see through the window; only she was so thirsty that a drink seemed more interesting than curiosities just then. Turning to the left they went up a steep grade to another street and there, right in plain sight, was a beautiful drinking fountain. Without stopping to read the inscription she and Mary Jane had a good drink. Then Alice read aloud the tablet that said this water was piped up the hill from the very spring where the Pilgrim fathers first got their water. "I think we’re doing a lot of interesting things to-day," said Mary Jane happily. "We stood on Plymouth Rock and we ate lunch where the Pilgrims didn’t have anything to eat, and now we’re drinking out of their own spring! Now what do we do next?" "I think we’d better walk up these steps to the old cemetery," said Mrs. Merrill.