I never shall get to London if I do n't hurry . The trip was like riding through a long picture gallery , full of lovely landscapes . The farmhouses were my delight , with thatched roofs , ivy up to the eaves , latticed windows , and stout women with rosy children at the doors . The very cattle looked more tranquil than ours , as they stood knee-deep in clover , and the hens had a contented cluck , as if they never got nervous like Yankee biddies . Such perfect color I never saw , the grass so green , sky so blue , grain so yellow , woods so dark , I was in a rapture all the way . So was Flo , and we kept bouncing from one side to the other , trying to see everything while we were whisking along at the rate of sixty miles an hour . Aunt was tired and went to sleep , but Uncle read his guidebook , and would n't be astonished at anything . This is the way we went on . Amy , flying up -- `` Oh , that must be Kenilworth , that gray place among the trees ! '' Flo , darting to my window -- `` How sweet ! We must go there sometime , wo n't we Papa ? '' Uncle , calmly admiring his boots -- `` No , my dear , not unless you want beer , that 's a brewery . '' A pause -- then Flo cried out , `` Bless me , there 's a gallows and a man going up . '' `` Where , where ? '' shrieks Amy , staring out at two tall posts with a crossbeam and some dangling chains . `` A colliery , '' remarks Uncle , with a twinkle of the eye . `` Here 's a lovely flock of lambs all lying down , '' says Amy . `` See , Papa , are n't they pretty ? '' added Flo sentimentally . `` Geese , young ladies , '' returns Uncle , in a tone that keeps us quiet till Flo settles down to enjoy the Flirtations of Captain Cavendish , and I have the scenery all to myself .
Of course it rained when we got to XXXXX , and there was nothing to be seen but fog and umbrellas .
Amy Cavendish Flo London Uncle Yankee colliery crossbeam eaves hour