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 customers, some of whom followed them far along the road. Fourchette was kept busy serving ice cream cones to cats, and hot frankfurters to dogs, and peanuts and popcorn to birds and squirrels who came down from the trees to see what was happening. Seagulls came slanting in from the harbour, and frogs gargled at them from the ponds. Such a crowd gathered when they stopped that they had to pull off to one side to avoid holding up the traffic. Bowser, who proved to be quite a character, always had some humorous comment to make about the cars that hurried past them. He did not even complain when birds and squirrels sat on his back while they ate their peanuts.

Willow trees were rumpled silver in the breeze, bright regiments of tiger lilies paraded on hillsides, the tide pressed high among the reeds and on sandy beaches, strong salty smells sharpened the dulcet air. The road was firm under their rolling wheels, under Bowser's ambling hooves. I know a secret, the little whistle seemed to shrill. Life goes down into the strong earth, life moves in the pushing tide, and life surrounded the wagon with beauty. The shining weather blessed them with colour and laughter in honour of their