Then he drove away with her, down to the Hunchback, at the landing, which was to take her to New York.
Now, don't you think, you fanny darling, that the "Hunchback" was an old man with a great lump on his shoulders; and Annie's mother was to take a seat on the top of it; and then the old man would swim to New York with her. Not a bit of it! The Hunchback was only an ugly old steamboat, which was all hunched up in the middle; and scratched through the water like a great crab trying to dance the polka.
Annie sat down and began to knit a little.
While she was knitting, she said this funny thing, which Eliza, the nurse, had taught her. See if you can say it:
"Little Kitty Kickshaw knotted and knitted for her kith and kinsfolk in her kinsman's kitchen.
"This knotting and knitting by little Kitty Kickshaw, in her kinsman's kitchen, kept her kinsfolk.
"So come and kiss kind little Kitty Kickshaw, for keeping her kith and kinsfolk by knotting and knitting in her kinsman's kitchen."
Pretty soon, down dropped a stitch off the needle.
"O—h," said Annie, "too bad! I must put it away till mamma comes home." So she opened a drawer in the table and laid her knitting down. Then she put on a nice little pink sun bonnet, and ran out into the garden to pick some flowers. The stone young lady smiled at her; but as she could not speak or run, Annie did not care a speck for her: she thought a great deal more of the good little dog dozing on the mat before the door.
Pretty soon the dog, whose name was Grip, woke up, shook himself, and ran after her to have a frolic, for he was always ready for that; and Annie and he raced around, till her sun-bonnet fell off. Then she sat down under the grand old oak tree, and had a real nice talk with Grip, who ran out his tongue, and wagged his tail, and looked as wise as Solomon.