‘My feet they haul me round the house,
They hoist me up the stairs,
I on-ly have to steer them and
They ride me everywheres!
“There you are, Miss Sackett. Dry as the Ark!”
“I should think you-all would be afraid to come alone, Nelly,” Beverly drawled. “Why, I wouldn’t go out of the house alone at noon; let alone a dark night in the rain! Goodness! You are as bad as Nancy with her moonlight rambles!”
Beverly’s mother had been Tante’s best friend, when they were girls at school together. But the children of those two schoolgirls had been born in places where the customs and conditions were so different that it affected their whole lives. Tante’s children were brought up never to be afraid to go anywhere, ever. Freedom is always safest where everyone has always been free. So she answered Beverly—“It’s different up North, Beverly. At least, it always has been. Nelly isn’t afraid of the dark, are you? But I wonder you didn’t prefer your cosy home on such a stormy night, my Dear.”
“I just had to come!” said Nelly. “Mother and Uncle Eph have gone to meeting. I guessed there would be stories here.”
“Stories! Stories!” clamored Eddie, who was intently watching Freddie’s small success with the corn-popper, now jiggling furiously.
“I think I shall have to bring out the Patchwork Quilt, to illustrate my story,” said Tante. Nancy and the Twins began to giggle, and Hugh whistled. They alone knew what their mother meant, for it was one of the family jokes. Tante routed Norma and Beverly out of one of the window seats in order to get a rolled-up bundle from the interior; and presently spread it out upon the floor in the middle of the room. It was a patchwork quilt of faded and old-fashioned calico squares, set in a curious pattern; half-finished and with ragged edges.