You may be sure that Lucy and Dora did not oversleep next morning. For supper there had been pink ice-cream and a proper birthday cake with nine pink candles, and the holiday feeling lasted all night.

Father took them to the station and put them on the train. He spoke to the conductor and then to Lucy.

“Now, Lucy,” he said, “if Miss Chandler is not on the platform where the train comes in, you and Dora are to walk right back to the car where you got off, and this gentleman will bring you home on his next train.”

“But, Father,” said Dora, “Aunt Margaret will be there. She said she would meet us.”

“Yes, I know,” said Father, “and I think she will be waiting. This is so you will know what to do if anything happens to prevent her being there.”

Father kissed them and the conductor said, “All aboard!” Father stepped off quickly.

Neither Lucy nor Dora often went on a train. They traveled so seldom that it was great fun to see the farmhouses and cows and hens as the train scurried past, and to watch the telegraph poles swooping down to gather up their wires.

Before long, the farms grew fewer, and the houses came closer together and instead of having only two tracks, one for the trains going to Boston and the other for trains going in the opposite direction, there were many tracks on both sides, with engines puffing past or cars standing in long lines.

Quite soon the trainman came and took their suit-case. Lucy looked at it anxiously for it contained a clean white dress for her and one for Dora. These were to be worn on Sunday if Aunt Margaret wished to take them to church. Lucy was not sure what the man meant to do with the suit-case.

Dora did not notice his taking it. The train was moving across a bridge with water coming quite close on either side. In the air, gulls were flying, and in the distance she could see some big ships.

The trainman saw that Lucy looked troubled. “The conductor told me to take this,” he said. “I’ll go with you to meet the party you are looking for.”

Lucy didn’t know what he meant. “But we aren’t going to a party,” she said shyly. “We are going to meet Aunt Margaret.”

The trainman smiled. “I’ll help you meet her,” he said, and he looked so pleasant that Lucy was willing he should take the suit-case.

When the train stopped, the children followed the other people to the door and there the trainman stood with the suit-case. He lifted Dora down and took Lucy by the elbow to help her just as he did the grown-up ladies. Then he walked with them down a long platform.

Lucy and Dora were glad that he came with them. The train was standing under a big shed with a very high roof and many people were hurrying about. Huge engines snorted and made so much noise that it seemed most confusing.

Miss Chandler stood by the gate which let the people through from the train-shed into the other part of the station. She kissed the little girls and thanked the kind trainman for helping them find her.

The first thing was to dispose of the suit-case. Miss Chandler called a messenger-boy and sent him to take it to her rooms.

“Now,” she said to the children, “we will go by the elevated train.”

Lucy and Dora had read about the elevated railways in big cities, but neither had been on one. They went through the big station and up some steps and through a turnstile and along a corridor above a street where the trucks and electric cars were, and up some more steps to a platform. Soon a train of cars came, but it did not have a smoky engine. This train ran by electricity.

“Is this the evelated train?” asked Dora.

“Yes, this is the elevated,” said Miss Chandler, laughing. “We will step into this car.”

In half a minute the train was again moving, but the children were surprised because it did not stay on the tracks above the street. Instead, it promptly plunged underground, into a lighted tunnel which ran under the street instead of above it.

“It is a funny kind of elevated train which runs underground, isn’t it?” said Miss Chandler. “But it does in Boston.”

Lucy and Dora thought it was odd, but they liked the brightly lighted stations where the train stopped. Quite soon, Miss Chandler said they would get out.

When they left the car they were still underground and climbed many stairs before seeing daylight. When they came out, it was on a sidewalk in the midst of tall buildings, much higher than any in the city where Mother went shopping. The streets were very narrow and at almost every crossing stood a policeman. He told the automobiles to stop and let people cross the street, or he told the people to wait on the sidewalk until it was safe for them to come. Everybody did exactly what he told them to do.

“I think it is very kind of that policeman to stand there and help the people,” said Dora.

Miss Chandler smiled. “Do you, Dora?” she asked. “He says we may cross now.”

Such wonderful shop-windows! Lucy and Dora were really obliged to stop and look, for they had never imagined anything so beautiful. One big window was draped with silks of different shades of orange and flame.

“Is it a fairy palace?” asked Dora. “It is like a story I read once.”

No, it was not a palace, only a big shop and people could go in and buy those very silks if they liked. Miss Chandler let the children look in a number of windows and then she called their attention to an open space across the street.

“Let us go over on the Common,” she said. “Perhaps the squirrels will come to be fed.”

Directly across from the beautiful shops was a big park with great elms and green grass and seats where men and women were sitting. When the children entered, they saw three fat gray squirrels with bushy tails climbing over a man who sat on one of the seats.

“They know he has nuts for them,” said Miss Chandler.

The man saw the children looking at him. He drew his hand from his pocket and it contained some peanuts.

“Would you like to feed the squirrels?” he asked.

“Will they bite?” asked Lucy.

“Not if you don’t scare them. Don’t touch them nor try to grab them, but just hold the nut in your fingers.”

“Thank you,” said Lucy and took one nut.

“May we?” Dora asked Miss Chandler, and when she smiled, Dora took a nut and thanked the man.

The squirrels came at once. Dora shivered a little when her squirrel put its paws about her fingers to steady the nut. Its wee hands felt so queer!

The third squirrel sat on the man’s knee and nibbled a peanut. When it was eaten, it put its paws over its heart in a beseeching way. As well as it knew how, it was begging for another.

Perhaps it was lucky that the man did not have many peanuts, for Lucy and Dora would have stayed until they were all gone. When there were no more, they thanked the man again and followed Miss Chandler across the Common.

“Who takes care of the squirrels in the winter?” asked Lucy. “Who would feed them if the people didn’t?”

“The park commissioners feed them,” said Miss Chandler. “Did you know that the State legislature of Massachusetts once stopped some important work to provide for a family of orphan gray squirrels on Boston Common?”

“Did they really?” asked Lucy.

“They really did. So you see that the squirrels would be looked after even if people didn’t like to feed them with peanuts. Did you ever hear of the Frog Pond?”

“I have,” said Lucy eagerly. “I have just studied about it in my history class. Dora hasn’t had history yet, but we can tell her.”

Dora looked at the small pond before them. She didn’t see any frogs.

“Just think, Dora,” said Miss Chandler, “that pond has been here since the first people came to Boston. The boys always slide on it in winter. Once during the Revolutionary War, British soldiers camped on the Common. They spoiled the ice where the children wanted to slide.”

“I know what happened,” said Lucy proudly. “The general in command of the British army was a very cross man, but the boys didn’t care if he was. They went straight and told him what the soldiers had done. And the General said they were to let the slide alone. Didn’t he, Aunt Margaret?”

“He did,” said Miss Chandler.

Dora looked respectfully at the Frog Pond. There were better places in Westmore for sliding when winter came, but it was interesting to know that children had played with the Frog Pond ever since there were any children in Boston to play there.

Beyond the Common lay a pretty park, called the Public Garden, and here they came to a larger body of water with white birds swimming on it. Some were ducks and some were swans, and the children stopped to watch them. Miss Chandler kept looking at a wooden platform not far away. Part of it was on the bank and part floated on the water.

Presently a boat came in sight, but it was like no boat Lucy and Dora had ever seen. It was not like the launch on World’s End Pond nor like the one at the beach. It looked like a tremendous great bird, floating lightly on the water.

“Would you like to go in the swan boat?” asked Miss Chandler.

Would they like to! Dora and Lucy could hardly speak for joy. But Dora asked one question.

“There won’t be any waves, will there?” she inquired anxiously. “Not to tip the swan about?”

“It will be perfectly smooth,” said Miss Chandler, and it was. Dora enjoyed every second she spent in the swan boat.

Next, Miss Chandler took them to the Boston Public Library. The children were very fond of the library in Westmore, but they had never imagined a library as big as this great building. Miss Chandler told them that Boston was a large city and the people needed many books to read.

They stayed a long time in the Public Library. In it were many rooms and in some were beautiful paintings. To see them, they climbed a marble stair where great lions kept guard. Dora at once revised her ideas of fairy palaces. If only that windowful of silks could be hung on the walls of the marble stair, it would be better than any palace of which she had read.

On the walls of one room were paintings about Sir Galahad. Lucy and Dora knew his story and how he went to seek the Holy Grail. Miss Chandler explained each painting.

Then she took them into a pleasant room with low bookcases and small tables and chairs and told them that it belonged to the children of Boston. All the books on the shelves were books which children liked to read.

Dora looked at the shelves carefully. It would be nice to have a library just for children, with no grown-ups at all. Still, the Westmore library was nice, and a little town didn’t need a big library like Boston. Some of the books she saw on the shelves were in the children’s corner of the Westmore library.

“Now I think it is time for luncheon,” said Miss Chandler. “We will have it rather early because I have a plan for this afternoon and I don’t want you to get too tired.”

Lucy and Dora had not thought about eating, but now it was mentioned, they both felt hungry.

Miss Chandler stopped an electric car near the library. To the amusement of the children, after running a few blocks down a wide street, the car dived underground. Cars in Boston seemed to have this habit.

When they came out of the subway they were in a different part of town, one which was crowded with people and had many large stores.

Miss Chandler took them into one of these stores and up in an elevator to where there was a restaurant with music playing.

First they washed their hands and smoothed their hair and then sat at a pretty round table with two pink asters in a vase.

In every direction were tables with people eating luncheon. The waitresses wore gray linen uniforms and white caps, and boys in white suits carried away trays of used dishes. The place was so large and strange that Dora was glad Miss Chandler was with them.

“What would you like for lunch?” Miss Chandler asked.

“Ice-cream, please,” said Lucy.

“Oh, yes!” said Dora. “I would like that best of anything, Aunt Margaret.”

“We will have ice-cream for dessert,” said Miss Chandler, “but we must eat something else first.”

Neither Lucy nor Dora cared especially what they had for lunch. There was too much to see for them to feel interested in the paper which had printed on it the things to eat.

“We will have fricasseed chicken and baked potatoes and rolls,” said Miss Chandler. “I will have some coffee and you girls shall have milk. Then we will all order ice-cream.”

The luncheon came on pretty dishes and the chicken was gay with green parsley. The potatoes sat in white paper boats. Most unusual of all, each lump of sugar for Miss Chandler’s coffee came wrapped in smooth white paper.

Miss Chandler said she did not use sugar in her coffee and that the children might each have one lump. Lucy ate hers while waiting for the ice-cream, but Dora tucked hers into a coat pocket. She thought she would take it to Mother.

“What is the nice plan for the afternoon, Aunt Margaret?” Lucy asked when she had finished her chocolate ice-cream. Dora’s ice-cream was strawberry and Miss Chandler’s vanilla.

But the afternoon of that day must have a chapter to itself.