"Yes, yes, now for the dessert, Uncle Em!" said Gloria. She was helped
back to the carriage, and then they drove through streets with trees
bright in their September dress. At last Gloria bowed her head and
pressed her fingers over her eyes.

"You say, Uncle Em, there is green grass at the new house, and trees?"

"Trees," answered Uncle Em.

The girl still had her head bowed and her fingers pressed upon her eyes.

"I used to shut my eyes as I am shutting them now, Uncle Em, when I
wanted to open them just at a right place. You count three when you are
ready for me to open my eyes."

The carriage bowled along over new and smoother roads. Gloria was
conscious that it was making several turns.

"One!" Uncle Em said, and Gloria drew in whiffs of warm September air.

"Two!"

Gloria was sure she heard a bird singing--of course, in a tree. "Hurry,
hurry!" she said. "Say 'Three,' Uncle Em!"

"Th-ree!"

It was, after all, not much more than a hole in a wide stretch of green
grass, with an uneven wall of bricks defining the excavation. But it was