there are lots of neighbors; some have big places and
some have little ones. Grandpa's isn't as big as the biggest nor as
little as the littlest."

"Does he keep horses and cows and chickens and things?"

"Oh, my, yes, and ducks and turkeys and sheep."

"I should think it would be a pretty nice sort of place."

"It is lovely and I am always crazy about going there."

"But please don't stay too long this time," urged Dorothy.

"I'll have to stay till mother brings me back," returned Edna
cheerfully. "I wish there were another kitten, Dorothy, so I could have
a live doll, too."

"You might take the mother cat," Dorothy suggested; "she is very gentle
and nice."

They went in search of Tiddlywinks' mother, but Madam Pittypat objected
to being made a baby of, for, though she was gentle enough, she squirmed
and twisted herself out of every garment they tried upon her, and, at
the first opportunity, walked off in a most dignified manner, as though
she would say: "Such a way to treat the mother of a family!"

So the two little girls concluded that they would free Tiddlywinks and
turn him again into a kitten. They left him stretching himself and
yawning lazily, as they trudged off to see their friend, Margaret
McDonald, that they might tell her Edna's news.

The days sped by quickly until Tuesday came, when Edna and her mother
were to start on their journey. Edna at first decided to take her doll
Ada "because she is more used to traveling," she said, but at the last
moment she changed her mind saying that Ada had been on so many journeys
that she thought someone else should have a chance and, therefore, it
was her new doll, Virginia, who was dressed for the trip. The previous
year Edna had spent Thanksgiving Day with her Uncle Justus; this year it
would be quite a different thing to sit at table with a whole company of
cousins instead of dining alone with Uncle Justus.

It was a journey of three hours before the station of Mayville was
reached, then a drive of four miles to Overlea lay before them. But
there was grandpa himself waiting to help them off the train, to see
that their trunks were safely stowed into the big farm wagon, and at
last to tuck them snugly into the carriage which was to bear them to the
white house set in behind a stately row of maples. These had lost their
leaves, but a crimson oak still showed its red against the sky, and the
vines clambering up the porch waved out scarlet banners to welcome