"Now, boys and girls, the stage is waiting for you."
"Oh, Nellie!" cried a little tot with light hair, "we're goin' to ride in a real wagon with real horses!"
"Don't speak so loud!" was the whispered answer of her companion. "It's like a dream, an' maybe we'll wake up an' find it all gone."
The children, in spite of the fact that they came from the slums of New York, were all neat and clean, for that was one of the requirements of the committee that took charge of the fresh-air work. And, though their manners might be considered a little rough, they did not intend them so. It was due to the influence of their surroundings. Soon they had all piled into the stage, and the driver from Sunnyside started the four horses.
"Look, will yer! It's a regular tally-ho like de swells on Fif' Avenoo drives!" exclaimed the boy who had called Dick the "rich guy."
The ride to the farm was one continuous series of exclamations of delight from the boys and girls, who looked at the green fields on either side of the country road, at the comfortable farm-houses they passed, or at the range of mountains that towered off to the west.
"Look!" exclaimed one boy, who had kept tight hold of his sister's hand from the time he got off the train. "See, Maggie, that's where the sun goes to sleep. I never saw it before."
