“How’ll we play it?” Elsie asked.
“Well, I’ll be the mamma and push the wagon,” Daisy said excitedly. “Elsie, you be some lady that’s visitin’ us, an’ sort of walk along with us, an’——”
“No,” Elsie interrupted. “I want to be the mamma and push the wagon, an’ you be some lady that’s visitin’ us.”
Daisy looked a little annoyed, but she compromised. “Well, we’ll go a long walk, and I’ll be the mamma the first block, an’ then the next block you can be the mamma, and I’ll be the lady that’s visitin’ us, an’ then the next block it’ll be my turn again.”
“All right,” said Elsie. “What’ll we have Laurence be?”
“We’ll have him be the father.”
Laurence frowned; the idea was rather distasteful to him, and for some reason a little embarrassing. “Listen!” he said. “What do I haf to do?”
“Oh, just walk along and kind of talk an’ everything.”
“Well——” he said uncertainly; then he brightened a little. “I’ll be smokin’ cigars,” he said.
“All right, you can.” And having placed Willamilla in the wagon, Daisy grasped the handle, pushing the vehicle before her. Laurence put a twig in his mouth, puffing elaborately; Elsie walked beside Willamilla; and so the procession moved—Hossifer, still in a mood of indecision, following at a varying distance. And Daisy sang her lullaby as they went.