“Indeed, I don't,” declared Patricia.
“Wal, I was goin' ter say that I kin git there by two different roads, an' I'd go the way ye'd like best ter go ef ye knew which that was,” he said.
“I only know I want the ride, and this road is stupid and poky. Go the way that has the most houses on it,” Patricia answered, and the boy turned into another avenue, and soon they were passing houses enough, such as they were!
Small houses that were dingy, and held one family, and larger ones that must have held three tribes at least, judging by the number of washings which hung upon the dilapidated piazzas.
“G'lang!” shouted the boy, but the nag had heard that too often to be impressed, and he only wagged one ear in response, but took not a step quicker.
Arabella was cold and provoked that she had come. Patricia was excited, and felt that she was having a frolic, and even Arabella's glum face could not quiet her; indeed, the more she looked at her, the more inclined was she to laugh.
Arabella felt aggrieved.
“The idea of laughing at me,” she thought, “when I should think I might laugh at her for inviting me to ride in a sleigh that is only a pung!”
Then something happened which made Arabella forget that she was provoked with Patricia, because she suddenly became so vexed with some one else.
A short, stubby boy with a mass of hay-colored hair, ran out from a yard that they were passing.