"He knows what politeness is, he does," said the driver. "Now look sharp before you get down, and see if you ever were in this place before."
Flora did as she was bid, and she saw orchards white with blossoms, a rustic bridge, a few scattering houses; but not one familiar object. They had passed out of the village, and the country was strange to her. In vain she looked for papa's house, or Grandma's; they were nowhere to be seen.
"Well, Miss Fiddle-de-dee?"
Flora sighed heavily.
"You are lost, eh?"
"Can't see papa's house. Too bad!"
"I thought so."
He took up the reins, and the poor tired horse turned about unwillingly. He did not want to go back, and would not believe his master was in earnest till he felt a sharp tingle from the whip.
"Don't want to ride any more," said Flora, wearily; "want to get out."
"Getting scared, eh?"