When she wakened, a sunbeam was creeping across her quilt, and she heard the shouts of the men at their work. She hurried into her clothes, and went out to breakfast with the back of her frock unfastened, as Kenneth, who usually helped her, was up and away. But Grandmother proved that she could pour coffee, button Eunice’s dress, and give orders to the men at one and the same time.
There was a rattle of harness in the yard, and David put his head in at the door, saying: “There’s a fellow just come out from town with a telegram.”
“Tell him to unhitch and come in,” said Grandmother. “Yes, dear, Kenny’s off with Peterson and the Norman colt. Will you have sugar on your mush?”
David came in, followed by the messenger, who said, “Yes, I guessed it might be important, and hustled for all I was worth. I’ve been on the road since four.”
He handed Grandmother the telegram, and she poured out his coffee before opening it.
“Anything serious, Aunt Eunice?” David asked.
“Not serious, but most important,” Grandmother said, and, turning to Eunice, she read:
Weejums has arrived. Will take her up to Mrs. Wood to-morrow.
M. Teechout.