“If only we had something to feed them,” said Dick, vainly hunting his pockets for something edible.
“If only we had something to feed ourselves,” said Dolly; “I’m just about starved.”
“So’m I; let’s go back now, and come to see the squirrels some other time, and bring them some nuts.”
“All right, let’s.”
So back they started, but leisurely, for they had no thought of how the time had slipped by. They paused here and there to investigate many things, and it was well on toward nine o’clock when they came within hearing of Michael’s horn, on which he was blowing a last, despairing blast.
“Hear the horn!” cried Dick. “Do you s’pose that’s the way they call the family to breakfast?”
“Oh, it isn’t breakfast time, yet,” said Dolly, confidently. “I’m hungry enough, but it can’t be eight o’clock, I know. And, besides, I want time to tidy up.”
The clean frock had lost its freshness, and the blue bow was sadly askew, for somehow, try as she would, Dolly never could keep herself spick and span.
They trudged along, through the barnyard and the garden, and finally came to the kitchen door, which stood invitingly open.
“Let’s go in this way,” said Dolly; “it’s nearer, and I can skin up to my room and brush my hair. I don’t want Auntie Rachel to think I’m always messy.”