us, then, and see us on to the road (H’m! the hurdles will get untied this time!); and on the way Peter has his two new beehives to show us, white with clean paint, under the apple-green. This is a fresh venture—good rains to the clover-crop! And Catherine—well, there now! she knew there was something else. Why, she has clean forgotten to show us her new hope in carnations, out back there by the race—deep crimson and flesh-coloured, and such good, firm flowers to travel into town, come summer, with the butter and the eggs. Well, we must be sure to see them next time. Good-bye, then, good-bye! As we step out again upon the road, and look back for a last glimpse, there goes the pair of them arm-in-arm up the Oak Avenue, and deep in the discussion of what new enterprise? Good luck to it, whatever it is! Good luck to the little oaks! and God-speed to all the rest of this brave adventure!
October! . . . It was autumn in England. In New Zealand, it is spring !
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