The only news he had to give was at the end: "So far, up to the time of writing, my pedometer registers fifty-six miles; which is, of course, only what I have walked, and not what we have done, for we all take turns to ride for fear of getting too tired and being seedy.

The caravan has done altogether one hundred and forty miles, and since we were in it ninety miles exactly." Horace, after great difficulty, wrote: DEAR X., "I am having a top-hole holiday in the caravan you gave the Avories.

I am the Keeper of the Tin-opener.
"Yours truly, HORACE CAMPBELL.
Hester wrote: DEAR X., "I have long wanted to write to you and tell you that we adore the Slowcoach, which is the name we have given your caravan, and think you were awfully clever to think of it and to make it so complete.
We have not had to buy anything, and the only thing you forgot was the license; but Uncle Christopher remembered.

I love walking behind the Slowcoach and seeing the world pass by.

But the evenings are the most alluring, and I like to wake up at night and hear the birds and animals just outside the window, although on the first night I was frightened.
We had one evening with real gipsies, but Janet would not allow me to go inside their caravan, because of fleas and things.