“Well, there’s a post-office in town and there’s a telephone, and Mr. Templeton has lots of things brought up to Castle Cliff from the city; so we shall have plenty to eat; chicken and ice-cream and things.  That makes me think, I’m hungry.  Wouldn’t they let us open a luncheon basket?”

Kyzie thought not; so Jimmy went on telling Lucy what he knew of Castle Cliff.  “It’s named for an air-castle there is up there; it’s a thing they call an air-castle anyway.  A man built it in the hollow of some trees, away up, up, up.  I’m going to climb up there to see it.”

“So’m I,” said Lucy.

“Ho, you can’t climb worth a cent; you’re only a girl!”

“But she has an older brother; and sometimes older brothers are kind enough to help their little sisters,” remarked Kyzie, with a meaning smile toward Jimmy; but Jimmy was looking another way.

“Uncle James told a funny story about that air-castle,” went on Kyzie.  “Did you hear him tell of sitting up there one day and seeing a little toad help another toad—­a lame one—­up the trunk of the tree?”

“No, I didn’t hear,” said Lucy.  “How did the toad do it?”

“I’ll let you all guess.”

“Pushed him?” said Edith.

“No.”

“Took him up pickaback,” suggested Lucy.

“Nothing of the sort.  He just took his friend’s lame foot in his mouth, and the two toads hopped along together!  Uncle James said it probably wasn’t the first time, for they kept step as if they were used to it.”

“Wasn’t that cunning?” said Edith.  And Jimmy remarked after a pause, “If Lucy wants to go up to that castle, maybe I could steady her along; only there’s Bab.  She’d have to go too.  And I don’t believe it’s any place for girls!”

The ride was a long one, forty miles at least.  The passengers had dinner at a little inn, the elegant horses were placed in a stable; and the tallyho started again at one o’clock with a black horse, a sorrel horse, and two gray ones.

The afternoon wore on.  The horses climbed upward at every step; and though the journey was delightful, the passengers were growing rather tired.

“Wish I could sit on the seat with the king-ductor,” besought little Eddo, moving about uneasily.

“That isn’t a conductor, it’s a driver.  Conductors are the men that go on the steam-cars,—­the ‘choo choo cars,’” explained Jimmum.  Then in a lower tone, “They don’t have any cars up at Castle Cliff, and I’m glad of it.”

Lucy did not understand why he should be glad, and Jimmy added in a lower tone:—­

“Because—­don’t you remember how some little folks used to act about steam-engines?  They might do it again, you know.”

“Yes, I ’member now.  But that was a long time ago, Jimmy.  He wouldn’t run after engines now.”

“Who wouldn’t?” inquired young Master Eddo, forgetting the “king-ductor” and turning about to face his elder brother.  “Who wouldn’t run after the engine, Jimmum?”