"Now it is Miss Rosanna's turn," she said, "and then Myron's. Ladies first. Give us a real nice story, Miss Rosanna."

"About robbers," said Tommy, chewing on a gra.s.s stem.

"I don't know any about robbers," said Rosanna pleasantly, "but I do know one about a cat, or a kitten rather, and it really happened. Helen told one about a dog, and this is about a cat.

"Once there were two little boys, Walter and Harold, and they were going a long, long way to their new home in the West where they were going to live. And they had a pet kitten that they wanted to take along so badly that fin'ly their mother and father said they might take it if they would carry it in its basket all the way and never ask anyone else to take care of it. So they said they would, and by-and-by they had everything packed up and ready, and when the time came, they started off and got on the train, kitten and all.

"They had things for it to eat and milk for it to drink, and when the conductor was not in the car they used to take it out of its basket and pet it and play with it. And the kitten didn't mind it a bit.

"Well, when they had been on the train a couple of days they let the kitten out, and Harold had it on his lap sound asleep.

"But just when they were at a station and the train was standing still, something awfully exciting happened outside the window, and both boys forgot the kitten. She jumped down from Harold's lap and went along under the seats toward the end of the car. She thought she was going to have a nice little walk, but just then the brakeman came into the car and there was a kitten under one of the seats. He thought of course it had hopped on the car there at the station, so he took it up and put the poor little thing off the train, and then that _very_ minute the whistle blew and off they went.

"It was a vestibule train, and when Walter and Harold found out that their kitten was gone they hunted every inch of the car over, and then hunted through the next car, thinking that she might have gone across the vestibule and into the other car. But she was not there. Just then along came the brakeman again and when the boys asked him if he had seen a kitten, he said, 'Why, sure! Was that _your_ cat? I thought she had hopped on the train back there at the last station, and I took her and put her off.'

"Well, the boys felt so badly they didn't know what to _do_, and the brakeman said they would not stop at any station for sixty miles. Walter said he was going back to see if he could find her, but the brakeman said she was most likely gone by this time or somebody had picked her up. He was awfully sorry about it.

"When they had gone the sixty miles the car stopped, but the boys didn't care to look out or anything. They just sat and thought about their little kittie, and Harold said, 'Seems as though I can hear her cry,'

and Walter said, 'Don't say that again,' and then he looked funny, because he thought he could hear her himself!

"Harold said, 'I suppose she is dead, and that is her ghost.' Walter said, 'No, it's not; even kitten ghosts don't make a noise. There it is again.'

"And then they looked around very slowly, the way you do when you think something is going to happen and you don't know just what it will be, and there in the seat back of them was the brakeman and he was holding that kitten!

"When he opened the car door he found her squeezed up in a corner of the top step, where she had ridden all that long way. When the brakeman tossed her off she knew that the boys were on the train, so she climbed right back, but she didn't get on quick enough to get into the vestibule before the door was shut, so she had to hang on and ride outside. She was scared nearly to death and jumped at every sound and trembled for days, but the boys petted her and comforted her, and by-and-by she felt all right. And there were lots of mice in the house they went to live in, and that took her mind off herself. And that's all of that," said Rosanna, smiling.

"That's a nice story," said Minnie. "Now let's hear what Myron has to tell."

Myron shook his head. "Oh, go on, Myron," said Helen. "Tell us a story, please, even if it _is_ short!"

"Once there was a little boy," said Myron, without waiting to be teased.

"Once there was a little boy and he had a mamma and two brothers and three sisters, and he grew up and made lots of money, and bought lots of nice things for his mamma, and his two brothers and his three sisters and that's all."

"The dear lamb!" said Minnie. "That's the best story of the lot."

"Mine was better," said Tommy. "Mine was a real feller."

"Oh," murmured Minnie, "Louisa Cordelia has just _got_ to get hold of you, young man!"

"I suppose it is my turn now," said Mary, "as long as you want to save Minnie for the last. Could you let me say you a little poetry, or was Luella's enough? I think some poetry sort of mixes things up a little."

"I think poetry is _lovely_," said Rosanna sweetly. "We loved Luella's verses."

"Well, then I will say some instead of a story." Mary cleared her throat and, rising, made a little bow.

UNAFRAID

The day I die, I'll quickly go Past all the angels, row on row, Straight up to G.o.d; I'll know His face Even up there in that new place.

In Sunday School, the way they teach, G.o.d is almost too great to reach.

They act a little bit afraid; Because the world and all He made.

But if He made the heavens blue, He made the sweet wild violets too; And Oh, what careful work it took To plan the small trout in the brook.

I know He's just the very size Of father; with most loving eyes.

Just big enough so one like me Can safely lean against His knee.

"Those were lovely verses," said Minnie when Mary had finished. "I wonder who wrote them."

"My teacher wrote them," said Mary. "I think they are real nice."

"I do think it is a waste of time for me to tell a story," said Minnie.

"First you know the machine will be here and then we will have to hurry home."

"I would like to hear you tell a story ever so much," said Mary. "I know it would be a nice one, but I must be starting along pretty soon. It is a long way from here to the car track, and I have to stop so often on account of the baby being so heavy. It is so funny about babies, they seem to get so heavy toward night."

"Indeed they do after you have lugged them about all day," said Minnie.

"I say I know all about it, dearie."

"We are not going to let you walk at all," said Rosanna. "We are going to take you wherever you live right in the car."

"Nautomobile ride! Nautomobile ride!" chanted Tommy, tossing his cap.

"I think you are just too good," said Mary. "Will your automobile hold such a lot?"

"Oh, yes, indeed, and more too!" said Rosanna, glad for once that she had a big Pierce-Arrow.

CHAPTER IX

"I hear the car coming," said Minnie. Everybody listened, and sure enough the big car rounded the bend and drew up at the bank with a mighty blast of the horn. Tommy yelled in reply and bolted for it, the others following, loaded down with the empty hamper and rugs, and by no means least, the baby, awake now and very happy after his sleep.

Minnie marshalled them into their places, putting the two boys on the front seat with Mr. Culver, and off they rolled. When they reached the little house where the children lived, Mary thanked Rosanna and Helen and Minnie and Mr. Culver again and she would have liked to thank the car too, and the hamper. Even Tommy managed to say, "Much obliged!"

before he rushed to the house so he could have the fun of telling all about it before Mary could get there.

But Mary did not mind. This was something that would have to be told over and over a dozen or twenty times. She stood with Luella and Myron, the baby looped over her arm, and watched the car disappear with a feeling of happiness and grat.i.tude that filled her thin little frame to overflowing.

When the car reached the great white steps of Rosanna's house, the two little girls said good-night.

"I never had such a nice, lovely, beautiful day in all my life, Rosanna," she said. "And all because you were so good and kind."

"You would have thought of it just the same," said Rosanna, blushing.

"But oh, Helen and Minnie, _wasn't_ it lucky that we took such a lot of lunch?"

"Well, it did turn out so," said Minnie.