"No," said Dorothy, politely; "we haven't that pleasure."
"H'm," said Mr. Hickox, rubbing down his side-whiskers; "she's a nice woman,—a very nice woman, but you must take her easy. Yes, when you meet her, you must certainly take her easy. She doesn't like to be surprised."
"Do you think she will be surprised at us?" asked Lilian, who was well aware that many people thought the Dorrances surprising.
"Yes; I think she will. I certainly think she will. Why, to tell the truth, I'm some surprised at you myself,—and I ain't half so easy surprised as Mrs. Hickox."
As he talked, Mr. Hickox was bundling the luggage into his cart. He picked up trunks and boxes as if they weighed next to nothing, and deposited them neatly and compactly in his queer vehicle.
"Any of the live stock to go?" he inquired.
"No," said Dorothy, "we'll take the animals; unless,—yes, you might take the rabbits; their cage is so heavy."
"Yes, do," said Leicester; "then I'll carry the bird-cage, and you girls can manage the dog and the kitten."
So everything else was put into the dray, even the provisions they had bought at the grocery shop, and the children watched with astonishment, as Mr. Hickox started off, easily pushing the load along a winding path.
"He's the strongest man I ever saw," exclaimed Leicester; "and I'd like to go along with him to see how he does it."