Such perfect color I never saw, the grass so green, sky so blue, grain so yellow, woods so dark, I was in a rapture all the way.

So was Flo, and we kept bouncing from one side to the other, trying to see everything while we were whisking along at the rate of sixty miles an hour.

Aunt was tired and went to sleep, but Uncle read his guidebook, and wouldn't be astonished at anything.

This is the way we went on.

Amy, flying up--"Oh, that must be Kenilworth, that gray place among the trees!" Flo, darting to my window--"How sweet! We must go there sometime, won't we Papa ?" Uncle, calmly admiring his boots--"No, my dear, not unless you want beer, that's a brewery." A pause--then Flo cried out, "Bless me, there's a gallows and a man going up." "Where, where ?" shrieks Amy, staring out at two tall posts with a crossbeam and some dangling chains.