28/44 He was not eight, he was eighty when at last Uncle Samuel said, "Now you may look." He opened his eyes and turned; for a moment the nursery, too, rocked in the unfamiliar light. On the middle of the nursery carpet was a village, a real village, six houses with red roofs, green windows and white porches, a church with a tower and a tiny bell, an orchard with flowers on the fruit trees, a green lawn, a street with a butcher's shop, a post office, and a grocer's. |