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 animals wanted to have as many expeditions in it as possible. Sometimes they took the children too, and all came home singing. The wagon was at its most picturesque plodding in the dusk up the long hill from the Village. Past the Clock Tower, and the house where George Washington had breakfast, it would roll steadily up the winding slope. Bowser refused to be hurried on that hill, and even those terribly big busses marked had to take their time behind him. They would groan and grumble in all their gears, but Bowser insisted—and quite rightly—on his fair share of the road. A red lantern hung inside the wagon and cast a glow over all the company. There was a pink tinge in the little trail of steam floating from the peanut whistle.

But on this last expedition there were no children with them. The children were at school when the animals started before lunch. It was just as well, for this trip resulted in the greatest adventure of all, and it was good to have it a surprise.

They wanted to visit the Jericho Cider Mill, which always opens the first of October. Donny had inherited from Mr. Mistletoe a great passion