This day we left Concord in the rain to travel by wagon the ten miles to our new home, which Father has named Fruitlands. The wagon was piled high with our possessions. Father drove the wagon. Mother was beside him holding two-year-old Abby May. Mr. Lane and Anna set us a good example by walking while I sat selfishly in the wagon with Lizzie. Mr. Lane’s son, William, who is twelve, also rode in the wagon, though we had little to do with him. The countryside around here is very pretty. Our new house is set on a hill. There is a stream and a wood nearby. In the distance I can just make out Mt. Monadnock stretched out like a sleeping giant. I feel much comforted by so fine a sight. There is a snowfall of white syringa blossoms around the house. Their sweet scent, along with the perfume of the lilacs, pours in through the open windows to cheer us. Our new home has a small dining room, a library for Mr. Lane’s many books, and a large kitchen for Mother. Above are bedrooms. William is to have his own room.
