On the wide green slopes surrounding the farmhouse the children reveled in a summer-land of daisies and buttercups, that jeweled the softly creeping grass. While Sheila wove a wreath of mountain posies Nathalie told how, some years before, a bag of gold had been found in a log of wood in the old farmhouse. This added a new glory to the scene, and there were many surmises in regard to this find, while the Girl Pioneer plied her craft and showed them how to make leaf-impressions in their little note-books, as each one had gathered a leaf from many trees on their way up the mountain. After Danny had made a camp-fire and they had had a hike lunch of frankfurters, roasted potatoes, and many toothsome edibles found in their lunchboxes, they hurried back to the old farmhouse, and while the children peeped into the old-fashioned brick ovens in search of another pot of gold, Janet played on the yellow-keyed piano. Then came a stroll to a weather-beaten barn, where an old coach was stored, which had once been the mountain’s only method of conveyance, some decades ago, and on which was the name “Goodnow House.” Of course they all had to mount the rickety steps and crawl inside on the wide leather-cushioned seat, large enough to hold almost a dozen children. Danny and Tony, however, soon clambered out and mounted still higher, up to the two-step-driver’s seat, where they pretended they were driving a tally-ho, with Sheila and Jean sitting back, within the railed top, as outside passengers, while Nathalie and Janet, on the wide old seat within, acted the part of tourists traveling to the top of Mount Washington. Wearying of these childish sports, Nathalie and Janet hied themselves back to the farmhouse, where, after resisting the inclination to drowse, induced by the lulling hum of the bees as they darted busily about in the sweet-scented, sunny air, they sat down on the little porch and took out their knitting. Suddenly the deep silence that they had drifted into, lured to thought by their active fingers, was broken by loud squeals, mingled with boyish shouts of laughter. And then a thrill came, as Nathalie suddenly perceived the old stage-coach, drawn by Danny and Tony as horses, while Jean, as the driver, was exultantly happy, perched up in the driver’s high seat. Sheila, meanwhile, bewreathed and betwined with wild posies, sat within the coach, posing as a beautiful white princess who had been captured by bandits. Nathalie’s heart swung in wild leaps as she saw the one-armed boy’s perilous position, as the ramshackle, clumsy coach rocked like a cradle, and realized what it would mean if anything happened to it, as it was a most valuable relic to the proprietor of the hotel.