Part 3 (1/2)

Mrs. Vane hastily polished off her son with a corner of the kitchen roller towel, snuggled him into a warm sweater, and sent word to Grandfather that she was very glad to have Philip go driving, though he didn't need to work up an appet.i.te she was sure.

Grandmother made Susan hunt for her straw hat which, strange to say, was not to be found upon its accustomed nail. Grandmother and Phil searched downstairs, while Susan ran about frantically upstairs, so afraid they would be late that she could only half look. But at last she discovered her hat upside down under the bed, with rubber s...o...b..ll taking a nap in it, just as Susan had put her to bed the day before.

In spite of this delay the children were in good time, and with Susan wedged tightly on the seat between Grandfather and the minister, and Phil standing between the great leather boots with either hand on Grandfather's knee, they drove off in fine style.

Mr. Drew was the village minister, a young man with a pleasant manner and a twinkle in his kind blue eyes. He and Grandfather were special friends. They liked to talk together, though they rarely agreed, and sometimes became so excited in their talk that you might almost think they were quarreling. But of course Susan knew better than that.

Grandfather's horse, big bony Nero, had hurt his knee and had been turned out to gra.s.s to rest and recover. So this afternoon Mr. Drew held the reins and chirruped gently to his little brown Molly as she carried them briskly along the road.

As the grown-up talk rumbled on over her head, Susan peered out like a bright-eyed bird, and at every interesting landmark or familiar spot she called, ”Look, Phil, look!” until from its frequent turning there was some danger that Phil's head might snap completely off its frail little neck.

”There is the old schoolhouse, Phil,” called Susan. ”We can play house on the doorstep.

”And here is the row of cherry trees. By and by we will come here with a pail.

”And, Phil, the crossest old cow lives in this field. Don't you ever come here by yourself. Once I only climbed up on the fence to look at her, and she put down her head and ran at me. And how she did moo-as cross as anything.”

”I'm not afraid of her,” said Phil stoutly, as, safe behind the shelter of Grandfather's boots and bowling swiftly along the road, he cast a defiant look at the surly bossy securely fastened by a rope to a stout stake in the ground. ”Maybe I'll take you there sometime. I won't let her hurt you.”

But the cow was left behind them, and Susan called Phil to look at the poultry farm, with its ducks and geese, its hens and chickens, cackling cheerfully and running about in amiable confusion.

Now they were nearing the town of Green Valley, and down the hill and over the bridge they rumbled to stop before the imposing stone Court-House, with its parking-s.p.a.ce for automobiles and its row of hitching-posts, to one of which was tied little brown Molly.

Susan danced impatiently up and down as Grandfather descended heavily to the sidewalk.

”Oh, Grandfather,” said she, catching hold of his hand, ”I want to take Philly to Madame Bonnet's. May I? Please say 'yes.'”

”To be sure,” answered Grandfather, feeling in his pocket as he spoke.

”It will be a good place for you to wait. Here's ten cents apiece. Spend it carefully, and be sure you don't get lost on the way.”

Susan laughed as she caught Phil by the arm and dragged him off. Lost on the way to Madame Bonnet's! when every one in the world knew it was just across the street from the Court-House.

Once safely over the crossing Susan stopped and pointed:

”Look, Phil,” said she. ”It's the nicest place you ever knew. Here it is. Here's Madame Bonnet's shop.”

CHAPTER III-MADAME BONNET'S SHOP

Madame Bonnet's shop was so small that if you hadn't known it was there you might easily have walked past it and never seen it at all.

It was one story high, with a low front door, and panes of gla.s.s in the one window so tiny that it was difficult to see the wares that Madame Bonnet had for sale. But if you shut one eye and pressed the other close to the gla.s.s, you were well repaid for your trouble, for Madame Bonnet kept a toy shop the like of which was not to be found anywhere, though you traveled the world over in search of it.

It was not that the shop was large, because it wasn't. It was not that Madame Bonnet had many toys for sale, because she hadn't. But the children said you could buy at Madame Bonnet's what you couldn't buy anywhere else. And though the grown people sometimes stated, and perhaps truly, that Madame Bonnet hadn't bought a penny's worth of new stock in twenty-five years, the children were well satisfied, and no doubt that is the true test of a toy shop, after all.

”Oh, Phil,” cried Susan, pressing one eye against the window, ”do look at the china doll carriage, and the little doll's lamp with a pink shade and all, and that beautiful pair of vases that would just go on the mantel in my doll's house. I mean if I had a doll's house,” added Susan truthfully.

But Phil, twisting and turning and almost standing on his head, was calling out:

”Look at the china boy rowing in the boat-with all his bundles, too.