ANNE OF GREEN GABLES COUNTRY 193 overhead, a satisfied sun smiling with complacency on a prosperous town. My thoughts were rudely shattered. A highly polished black sedan car, with six husky men and an American license plate, stopped beside us. "Furriners," murmured Jean. "Right," I echoed. To all Islanders, any car from another province or state is "furrin." "Could you tell us the way to Boston?" inquired the driver. "Boston!" "Yes, Boston, in the United States. You've heard of the States, I suppose . . .," the voice continued encouragingly. "Come, come!" I returned indulgently. "I couldn't bear to tell you some of the things I've heard. Take the first turn to the left, and the second to the right. Then, you'd better inquire again. . . ." "Thanks!" The car whizzed away, enveloping us in a cloud of dust. I hope they inquired again. 6 Traveller's Rest! Just try saying the name and watch every one smirk! The commercial travellers on the trains have their annual laugh and crack their semi-annual joke every time the train stops at the tiny station, marked Traveller's Rest. "Gosh, guess we'd better get out here, Joe," says one traveller to another, and then they guffaw at the very thought of it.