Two eager young Americans sat, one on each side of the window of an English train, speeding towards London. They had landed only that morning, and everything seemed very strange to them, as they watched the pretty scenes from the car-window. The lady who had met them at the steamer, was an old friend of the family, who had often been to America, and was well known to the children, though they had never seen her son and daughter, whom they had come to visit. Mrs. Pitt soon aroused them by saying:—

“Come, John, we are almost there, so please fetch down Betty’s wraps from the rack. Here are your umbrellas; you may take Betty’s bag and I’ll take yours. Yes, it is really England, and soon we’ll be in London, where Philip and Barbara are very impatiently waiting to meet the American friends with whom they have been exchanging letters for so long. They have been studying history hard, and have learned all they possibly could about their own country, which they love, and want you to know, too. They have never seen very much of England, and this is an excellent chance for them to do some sight-seeing with you. I think you’ll have a jolly time seeing all the strange sights and customs, and visiting some historic places. Now, you must not expect to find Philip and Barbara just like your friends at home; English children dress very differently, and may use some expressions which you do not exactly understand, but you’ll soon become accustomed to them all. Here we are at Waterloo Station.”

As the guard swung open the door, two impatient young people hurried up to the party.

“Here we are, Mother; did they come?”

John and Betty shyly shook hands with their English friends, but did not find anything to say, just at first. Mrs. Pitt went to the luggage-van, to find the children’s trunks, and the others followed.

“Aren’t the trains funny, John?” said Betty, nervously holding her brother’s hand.

“See, this is the baggage part of the car, but isn’t it small!”

“Oh, there are several on each train,” explained Philip. “Are your vans any bigger?”

“There are our trunks, Mrs. Pitt,” called John. “I know them by the C’s we pasted on the ends.”

“Here, porter, put this luggage on a four-wheeler, please,” and Mrs. Pitt and her charges crowded in, the luggage was piled on top, and they drove away.

“Do you think you will like London?” asked Barbara of Betty, rather anxiously.

Betty ventured to answer, “Oh, I think so, only it is very different from New York.”

It certainly was! Great, top-heavy buses swung and lurched past them, some of them drawn by splendid horses, but still more with motors. The outsides of the vehicles were covered with all sorts of gay advertisements and signs, in bright and vivid colors; in this way, and in their tremendous numbers, they differ from the New York buses on Fifth Avenue.

“To-night, we will take you out for a ride on top of a bus if you like, John,” said Philip.

John, losing his shyness, began to ask questions, and to give his opinion of the things he saw.

“I think the buses are great! I shall always choose that seat just behind the driver, where I can talk to him. He must have fine stories to tell, doesn’t he, Philip? I like the hansoms, too. There really seem to be more hansoms than anything else in London! Just look, Betty, at that long row there in the middle of the street! I suppose they are waiting for passengers. And there’s a line of ‘taxis,’ too. My, but these streets are crowded! Fifth Avenue isn’t in it!”

Philip and Barbara looked at each other and smiled. All the sights which were so familiar to them, seemed very novel to their American visitors.

“I suppose it would be just the same to us, if we were to visit New York,” said Barbara. “Those bus-horses, which you admire, do look very fine at first, but the work is so hard on them, that they only last a very short time. Their days are about over now, for soon we shall have only the motor-buses.”

“Oh, what’s this place?” cried John excitedly. “I am sure I have seen pictures of it! Why, Philip, I think you once sent me some post-cards which showed this!”

“Oh, yes, this is Trafalgar Square,” broke in Mrs. Pitt. “People sometimes call it the center of all London. Here is the celebrated statue of Lord Nelson—here, in the middle; see all the flower-girls, with their baskets, around its foot. That large building, with the pillars, is the National Gallery, where I may take you to see the pictures. The church near it they call St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. Yes, it doesn’t seem a very appropriate name now, but once it really was ‘in the fields,’ it has stood here so long. Do you notice all the streets leading out from this great square? That way is the direction of the Strand and Fleet Street; Westminster Abbey is not far away; and you can see the towers of the Houses of Parliament—just there. You will soon grow more familiar with all this. Now, we must go this way, and before long, we shall be at home. I think you’ll be glad to rest after your tiresome journey. This is Regent Street, where many of the shops are. Aren’t they attractive?”

“Yes,” said John, “but how very low the buildings are! As far as I can see they are all of the same height. They are almost all yellow, too, and with the bright buses the scene is very gay.”

They rode along for some time, the silence being often broken by exclamations and questions. John and Betty could not understand how people avoided being run over when they all dashed across the street, right under the very noses of the horses. It was amusing to see people stumbling up the narrow, winding stairs of the buses, as they jolted along, and even the signs over the shops attracted some attention. They wondered if the King and Queen could shop in them all, for so many bore the words, “Jewelers to T. R. M.,” or “Stationers to Their Royal Majesties.” London seemed very large to them on this first drive—very strange and foreign, and they were glad when the cab drew up before a big house in a spacious square, and the rest cried, “Here we are at home!”