"Your roads all know where they're going, don't they?" Mary Jane asked
as they got under way.

"Yes," replied Grandfather in surprise; "don't yours?"

"Not like yours do," said Mary Jane positively; "ours go this way."
And with her finger she made some big curves in the air.

"Oh!" laughed Grandfather, "you mean that yours are curving because of
the hills and that ours are straight. Yes, our roads are pretty
straight but you'll like that when you get used to it, because then you
can't get lost. There's a road every mile and each road goes just the
way it by rights ought to go because there aren't any hills to get in
the way." And all the while Grandfather was talking, he was driving
the car along the straight road just as fast as could be.

"And aren't there any hills before we get to your house?" asked Mary
Jane after a while.

'"Well," said Grandfather smilingly, as he slowed the car down, "what
do you think about that yourself?"

Mary Jane looked before her, the way she could see Grandfather wanted
her to look, and, right there close, she saw a big, old-fashioned white
house. It had a flower bed, a great big round flower bed, in the yard
in front of it and a curving driveway along the side. And it had a
wide porch all across the front, a porch that had seats and a swing and
everything a little girl would like to see on a porch. A lot of
windows with green shutters were scattered over the house, and through