"It had better be a minute," Jack cried, "if you're going with me, for I haven't much time to spare before dinner."
Nannie, laughing, took up the little basket her mother had packed so nicely for Grannie Burt, and off they started, Jack drawing the large basket on his little hand-barrow.
"Where shall we go first, Jack?"
"Oh, to Grannie Burt's, of course, and then you can help me to draw the barrow the rest of the way."
"Let us go to the other places first," said Nannie, "and then you can draw me on the barrow the rest of the way."
"That's more than I bargained for; this basket is all that I want to carry before dinner."
Poor Jack, however, was destined to carry a much heavier load than his basket of mince-pies and roast chickens; for as Nannie skipped along, her foot slipped, and down she came, basket and all, while grannie's nice mince-pies tumbled out, and rolled down the street.
"Oh dear!" said Nannie, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, "do look at grannie's pie! What shall we do?"
"Pick it up, of course," said Jack, as he ran after it.
"Nothing but clean snow," he said, as he brought it back; "nobody will know it from sugar."