nted.
Nevertheless, a reverse or two was due. Not that his success was
having any undesirable effect upon him; his Dutch common sense saved
him from any such calamity. But at thirty years of age it is not good
for any one, no matter how well balanced, to have things come his way
too fast and too consistently. And here were breaks. He could not
have everything he wanted, and it was just as well that he should find
that out.

In his next quest he found himself again opposed by his London friends.
Unable to secure a new _Alice in Wonderland_ for his child readers, he
determined to give them Kate Greenaway. But here he had selected
another recluse. Everybody discouraged him. The artist never saw
visitors, he was told, and she particularly shunned editors and
publishers. Her own publishers confessed that Miss Greenaway was
inaccessible to them. "We conduct all our business with her by
correspondence. I have never seen her personally myself," said a
member of the firm.

Bok inwardly decided that two failures in two days were sufficient, and
he made up his mind that there should not be a third. He took a bus
for the long ride to Hampstead Heath, where the illustrator lived, and
finally stood before a picturesque Queen Anne house that one would have
recognized at once, with its lower story of red brick, its upper part
covered with red tiles, its windows of every size and shape, as the
inspiration of Kate Greenaway's pictures. As it turned out later, Miss
Greenaway's sister opened the door and told the visitor that Miss
Greenaway was not at home.

"But, pardon me, has not Miss Greenaway returned? Is not that she?"
asked Bok, as he indicated a figure just coming down the stairs. And
as the sister turned to see, Bok stepped into the hall. At least he
was inside! Bok had never seen a photograph of Miss Greenaway, he did
not know that the figure coming down-stairs was the artist; but his
instinct had led him right, and good fortune was with him.

He now introduced himself to Kate Greenaway, and explained that one of
his objects in coming to London was to see her on behalf of thousands
of American children. Naturally there was nothing for the illustrator
to do but to welcome her visitor. She took him into the garden, where
he saw at once that he was seated under the apple-tree of Miss
Greenaway's pictures. It was in full bloom, a veritable picture of
spring loveliness. Bok's love for nature pleased the artist