which gave a very gay look to the scene. Buckwheat flowers bloomed on
their rosy stems, and tall corn-stalks rustled their leaves in the warm
air that came from the ovens hidden in the hillsides; for bread needs a
slow fire, and an obliging volcano did the baking here.

"What a lovely place!" cried Lily, feeling the charm of the homelike
landscape, in spite of the funny plump people moving about.

Two of these figures came running to meet her as she slowly walked down
the yellow path from the hill. One was a golden boy, with a beaming face;
the other a little girl in a shiny brown cloak, who looked as if she would
taste very nice. They each put a warm hand into Lily's, and the boy
said,--

"We are glad to see you. Muffin told us you were coming."

"Thank you. Who is Muffin?" asked Lily, feeling as if she had seen both
these little people before, and liked them.

"He was Ginger Snap once, but he's a Muffin now. We begin in that way, and
work up to the perfect loaf by degrees. My name is Johnny Cake, and she's
Sally Lunn. You know us; so come on and have a race."

Lily burst out laughing at the idea of playing with these old friends of
hers; and all three ran away as fast as they could tear, down the hill,
over a bridge, into the middle of the village, where they stopped,
panting, and sat down on some very soft rolls to rest.

"What do you all do _here_?" asked Lily, when she got her breath
again.