“Oh, how lovely!” exclaimed Miss Gordon, who never before had seen the mill. “Why, it looks like a charming bit of Old Holland!” Two stone gate piers marked the entrance to the farm. The house was gabled, with a red tile roof which sloped forward to cover a wide veranda. Beyond stood the big barn and a small milk house. Everywhere there were acres and acres of tulips. Only a few of the flowers as yet were in bloom. “This place will be a sea of color in a week or so!” exclaimed Miss Mohr. “I’d love to see it then.” “We’ll have the show when the flowers are at their best,” said Mr. Piff. He leaped out of the car to open the gate. Returning, he drove through and pulled up in front of the house. Vevi and Connie jumped out, eager to explore. The farm was a delightful place, neat as a pin. Even the trees had been whitewashed. As the two little girls stood watching the huge revolving arms of the windmill, a nice looking young man came out of the house. His shirt was open at the neck and he was deeply tanned from having lived much of the time outdoors. “Good afternoon,” he said, walking over to the car. “May I help you?” Vevi and Connie noticed that instead of saying Good, the word sounded a little like “goot.” They guessed at once that he was Mr. Van Der Lann, the owner of the nursery. Mr. Piff introduced himself and at once began to tell of his plans for the flower show. Not caring to listen, Vevi and Connie wandered off down the cinder path. “Oh, see!” cried Vevi pointing ahead. “A little canal! The windmill must pump water from it to irrigate the tulip beds.” The path which led to the canal went directly past the big windmill. Its great arms were covered with gray sailcloth which moved lazily in the light breeze. The big flaps swept low to the ground each time they revolved. “The windmill has a little house!” Vevi declared. “That must be where the machinery is kept.” “I’ve never been inside a real mill,” Connie remarked wistfully. “Neither have I. I’d like to go in. Shall we?” Connie held back. “I don’t think it would be polite, Vevi. We’re only half-way guests here on the farm. Mr. Van Der Lann didn’t even invite us. We just came with Mr. Piff.” For awhile the children watched the mill, and then went on down to the canal. A little bridge of planks stretched across to the opposite side. Both shores were lined with tulips, heavy with bud. All of the beds had been laid out in attractive patterns. “My, it will be pretty here when the flowers bloom,” Vevi sighed. “No wonder Mr. Piff wants Mr. Van Der Lann to help with the flower show! This place would be a big attraction.” Vevi noticed a small flat-bottomed boat tied up near the bridge. Its name, “GOLDEN TULIP,” had been painted in bright yellow letters on the craft. “What an odd name for a boat!” she exclaimed. “Let’s take a ride.” “We can’t,” Connie replied firmly. “Anyway, the canal might be deep.” “Why, it’s shallow as anything,” Vevi corrected her. “I can see the bottom.”