But this time he had actually heard!
"Don't be irritable, George! And don't mumble under your breath. Speak up!"
He placed his right foot on board, pulled a lever, pushed off with his left foot, and away he went, with a quick little "chug-chug-chug." Where the gooseberry bushes bordered the narrow path, he swerved a little, and again where the celery beds lay on each side of him like newly-dug graves, but, save for these two temporary diversions, he kept a straight and steady course until he reached the fowl-run at the extreme end of the garden. There he suddenly turned at right angles and disappeared.
I looked at Molly, who had been standing spellbound and inarticulate by my side. To me, Gran'pa's antics had been an annoying revelation of puerile activity, but to Molly they had been a sheer miracle of delight. A motor scooter alone would have entranced her; so would a rejuvenated great-great-grandfather. The combination of the two, however, had simply paralyzed her. She was in a wonderful present, but at the same time, the little minx evidently had her mind's eye on a still more wonderful and fruitful future.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed breathlessly.
I turned a sad and disillusioned face to her.
"Isn't it simply scrumptious!" she continued with unabated enthusiasm.
"It's very undignified for a man of his age and respectability—bringing shame on his relations like this."
"You aren't really angry, Daddy?"
"I'm more than angry. I can see red—scarlet!"