“Yes. I am sure that you do not want to go home without seeing again some of the friends that you have made here; and besides, I should like you to know some of my own particular friends,—whom you should have met long before, by the bye.” “But, Mother Goose, who are they?” asked Bab. “And how are we to meet them?” queried Meg. “And where must we go?” sighed Dick, who was quite content to stay where he was for the present, after all his adventures. Mother Goose smiled again. She quite beamed upon them through her gold-rimmed spectacles. “They are all coming here,” she declared. “I’m giving a party for you, and every one in this part of the world is coming to it.” “Oh, what fun!” they exclaimed, clapping their hands. “How dear of you, Mother Goose!” “Who will be here?” asked inquisitive Bab. “Well,” said Mother Goose, “I confess I am disappointed not to have the Piper family,—Jack and Jill, and Contrary Mary, and the rest. Some of my best songs have been written about them, and I am devoted to them all. But they are away just now, on a visit to a very remote part of the country,—Toyland, in fact,—and I have not been able to send for them in time to get them back. Then, the Man in the Moon and his pretty wife have sent regrets; they have some party on the Milky Way which they simply have to go to, so she says. And Hop O’ My Thumb is half a world away, and is having one of his seven-league boots mended, so he is uncertain about getting here in time; but he has promised to make a great effort to come at any cost. But even without these especially good friends of mine, there will be quite enough to make things merry. And I do love a party, even at my age!” At the same moment Bizzybuzz called from the door that the owls were coming. Mother Goose went forward to meet them, and the children were soon greeting all their old friends,—Moon-Eyes and his wife, the Lady Gray-Wing, and the Owl Innkeeper, and several other owls whom they recognised as having been at the Owls’ Inn on the night of the storm; also the big white owl who had carried the little Witch of Silence to the foot of the Ladder of Light that led to the North Star. Bab asked him when he expected the Witch home; but he merely blinked at her without answering, and she remembered that he never spoke. Moon-Eyes and the Owl Innkeeper gave an exciting account of how they had chased the horse of the Red City man back to the city gates. “It’s too bad to frighten the poor horse,” said Meg, “but I suppose that it had to be done.” [Illustration: THEY WERE ALL THREE BACK ON THE NURSERY HEARTH RUG] “Oh, the Red City horses are as bad as the Red City men,” said the Owl Innkeeper,—“which is saying a great deal more than I like to say about man or beast.” “And anyway,” added Moon-Eyes, “we didn’t hurt the horse, of course. We just talked to him, and persuaded him that he would rather go home than chase you!”