It is two years after the events in Canadian Summer . The Mitchells are settled in their new home, Friendly Gables—and twins have just been added to the family. With Mother recovering from the births and with other changes in the household, the children must come to terms with themselves in new ways. Joan’s first dance; Patsy losing her glasses; Peter’s disastrous fight; Angela’s misadventure in the woods; Timmy’s “good news”; and Catherine’s brush with fire, are only a few of the incidents in the life of this busy, growing family. With her usual humor and compassion, the author brings the Mitchell “trilogy” to a satisfying close. Canada, 1940's RL4 Of read-aloud interest ages 8-up Hilda van Stockum (1908-2006), wife of E.R. Marlin and mother of six children, wrote and illustrated nearly 20 books for children between the years 1934 and 1976. Born in Holland of Dutch and Irish heritage she met her American husband in Ireland at the outset of her portrait painting career. After her marriage she put her training in art to very good use in her books for children. Her works reflect the various countries and cultures of which she has been a part. For instance, her book The Winged Watchman remains a stirring tribute to the courage of her countrymen during World War II. IT WAS the twenty-first of March, the birthday of spring, but in Canada winter still reigned. Snow was whirling all over Quebec, all over its fields and wooded hills, all over the mute St. Lawrence River in its prison of ice. Steadily the snow came down, covering with its pure mantle the rusty confusion of railway yards and the smoking factories of Lachine, a suburb of Montreal. It also fell silently and daintily on the houses and gardens of its residential district. One of the largest gardens belonged to Friendly Gables, the home of the Mitchells. They had lived there most of the two years since they had moved to Canada from Washington, D.C. The snow kept falling, falling, muffling all sounds, so that cars whispered past and pedestrians moved like ghosts. In this stillness, if someone had stood at the front gate of Friendly Gables and listened carefully, he could have heard a baby wailing in Mrs. Mitchell’s bedroom. One of the twins had been put into Mrs. Mitchell’s arms. The other was being powdered and pinned and bundled by the nurse. The doctor had gone; there was only a slight smell of disinfectant left in the room; the perfumes of powder and baby oil were taking over. Mother lay back on her pillows, one newborn son firmly nestled against her. She watched the other one longingly. “Is he almost ready, Miss Thorpe?” she asked. “Just a minute, just a minute,” answered Miss Thorpe. She was a tall, angular woman with a firm mouth. Her hands were capable and strong—too strong, thought Mother. No wonder the baby was yelling, he must be seasick, the way Miss Thorpe tossed him about. “Don’t you think he’s dressed enough now?” she pleaded. “I want to see if they’re alike.” “All babies are alike,” mumbled Miss Thorpe through the safety pin she held between her teeth. “Oh no, they aren’t. Mine were all different,” protested Mother. “That’s your imagination,” said Miss Thorpe, rolling the baby in a blanket as if she were wrapping a loaf. “Give him to me,” Mother begged. “Here you are, then.” And Miss Thorpe handed her the second baby, who stopped crying at once. Mother laid the babies side by side on her lap and compared them. They both had red, crumpled faces and lots of dark, wiry hair. “They are alike, aren’t they?” she said. “I’m going to call them Johnny and Jimmy, after my husband and his brother. Won’t John be surprised when he hears it’s twins! We wanted another boy, but we didn’t dream we’d get two! That makes it even—four boys and four girls. Does he know yet?” “The doctor said he’d phone him,” answered Miss Thorpe. “I have my hands full. Twins make twice the work.” “Yes, and I wonder—have we enough diapers and things? I’ve only one cradle . . .” A worried flush spread over Mother’s face. “Never mind, Mrs. Mitchell, they’ll both fit in the one for a while, and I’d get diaper service, if I were you. It’s no fun, washing for twins.” “No—you’re right,” agreed Mother. She glanced at the clock. “It’s almost three,” she said. “The children will soon be coming home from school. I’m longing to show them the babies—the girls will be delighted! Is Catherine awake yet?” “No, sound asleep,” said Miss Thorpe. “Thank goodness. I had trouble enough getting her to bed. She knew something was happening and she kept wondering what the doctor was bringing in his black bag—was it a kitty? I asked her, wouldn’t she rather have a little brother or sister, but she said no . She seems a very determined young lady. Are they all like that?” “Oh, you haven’t met the others yet, have you?” Mother raised herself on an elbow and listened. “There’s Timmy.” A pleased smile warmed her face. “Do you hear him?” “No,” said the nurse, folding up some towels. “I don’t hear a