Page:Cornelia Meigs--The island of Appledore.djvu/179

Rh The first motor rolled up to the door, Billy was called for, so he stuffed the letter into his  pocket and hurried out. They were swept away through the crowded streets of Chicago,  where spring was already showing in the green  grass and blooming crocuses of the little  squares. It was even more in evidence in Lincoln Park where the shrubs and trees were putting out their new leaves and flowers were blooming all along the way. It made one feel queer and restless, Billy thought, as though one  wanted something very badly and did not quite  know what it was. It seemed strange how hard it was to make up his mind just what he was going to do.

The lake was very blue there on their right hand as they drove along the Sheridan Road  sweeping constantly through neat suburbs,  some large, some small, but all alike in one  thing: that every one in the world was busy  planting a garden. They passed through bits of real country with fields and meadows and  pasture lands, and stopped at last before a big  iron gate that guarded an enclosure full of  brick buildings, wide, smooth lawns and many  winding roads.

“They won’t let us in on account of the war