“Goodmorning，“andboltedlikearabbit。EventhenJeremynoticedthathehadpaintonhisfingers，andthattwoofhiswaistcoatbuttonswereunfastened。
Thendowninthehallwhatconfusiontherewas！Boxeshere，thereandeverywhere。Mother，Father，AuntAmy，UncleSamuel，and，mostinterestingofall，Barbaraandthenewnurse。ThenewnursewascalledMrs。Pateham，andshewasstout，red-cheeked，andsmiling。
ThebundleinwhitecalledBarbarawas，mosthappily，sleeping；butHamletbarkedatMrs。Pateham，andthatwokeBarbara，whobegantocry。ThenCollinscameinwithhiscoatoff，andthemusclesswellingonhisshoulders，andhandledtheboxesasthoughtheywerepaper，andthecook，andRose，andWilliam，thehandy-boy，andoldJordan，thegardener，andMrs。Preston，aladyfromtwodoorsdown，whosometimescameintohelp，allbegantobobandsmile，andFathersaid：“Now，mydear。Now，mydear，“andHamletwoundhimselfandhisleadroundeverythingthathecouldsee，andHelenfussedandsaid：“Now，Jeremy，“andMissJonessaid：“Now，children，“andlastofallCollinssaid：“Now，mum；now，sir，“andthentheyallwerebundledintothebus，withthecartandtheluggagecomingalongbehind。
Thedrivethroughthestreetswas，ofcourse，aslovelyasitcouldbe；notintheleastbecauseanyonecouldseeanything——thatwashinderedbythefactthatthewindowsofthebusweresooldthattheywerecrustedwithakindofglassymildew，andnoamountofrubbingonthewindow-panesprovidedonewithaview——butbecausetheinsideofthebuswasinevitablyconnectedwithadventure——
partlythroughitsmotion，partlythroughitsnoise，andpartlythroughitslovelysmell。Thesewere，ofcourse，Jeremy’sviews，anditcan’tdefinitelybeassertedthatallgrown-uppeoplesharedthem。ButwheneverJeremyhadriddeninthatbushehadalwaysbeenonhiswaytosomethingdelightful。Themotion，therefore，rejoicedhisheart，althoughtheviolenceofitwassuchthateveryonewasthrownagainsteveryoneelse，sothatUncleSamuelwassuddenlyhurledagainstthebonnetofMissJones，andHelenstruckAuntAmyinthechest，andJeremyhimselfdivedintohissisterBarbara。Astothesmell，itwasthatlovelywell-knownonethathasinitmiceandstraw，wetumbrellasandwhisky，goloshesandcandle-grease，dustandgreenpaint！Jeremylovedit，andsniffedonthisoccasionsooftenthatMissJonestoldhimtoblowhisnose。Astothenoise，whoistherewhodoesnotrememberthatrattleandclatter，thatsudden，deafeningreportasofthefiringofahundredfirearms，thesuddenpausewheneveryboltandbarandhingesighsandmoanslikethewindorastormysea，andthenthatsuddenscreamoftheclatteringwindows，whenitisasthoughafrenziedcook，havingreceivednoticetoleave，wasbreakingeveryscrapofchinainthekitchen？“Whodoesnotknowthatlastmaddenedroarasthevehiclestumblesacrossthelastpieceofcobbledroad——aroarthatdrowns，withasavageanddeterminedtriumph，allthoselastdirectionsnottoforgetthis，that，andtheother；allthoseinquiriesastowhetherthis，that，andtheotherhadbeenremembered？Cobblesaregonenow，andoldbusessleepindesertedcourts，andCollins，alas，isnot。Hisyoungestsonhasamotor-garage，andPolchesterhasasphalt——sictransitgloria，mundi。