“You can have it locked up while you are absent,” interrupted Mrs. Gleason. “I will promise you that no injury shall happen to it.”
“Thank you,” said Miss Thusa, nodding her head; “but where I go my wheel must go, too. What in the world shall I do, when I stop at night, without it? and in that idle place, the steamboat, I can spin a powerful quantity while the rest are doing nothing. It is neither big nor heavy, and it can go on the top of the stage very well, and be in nobody’s way.”
“You can sit there, Miss Thusa, and spin, while you are riding,” cried Louis, laughing; “that will have a powerful effect.”
Helen and Alice felt very sad in parting from the friend and brother so much beloved, but they could not help smiling at Louis’s suggestion. The young doctor, glad of an incident which cast a gleam of merriment on their tears, added another, which obviated every difficulty:
“Only imagine it a new fashioned harp or musical instrument, in its green cover, and it will give éclat to the whole party. I am sure it is a harp of industry, on which Miss Thusa has played many a pleasant tune.”
The wheel certainly had a very distinguished appearance on the top of the stage, exciting universal curiosity and admiration. Children rushed to the door to look at it, as the wheels went flashing and rolling by, while older heads were seen gazing from the windows, till the verdant wonder disappeared from their view.
CHAPTER VII.
“What a fair lady!—and beside her
What a handsome, graceful, noble rider.”—Longfellow.