“It means,” said I, “that, however it may have happened, we have a piano in the house and Cherry can play when she comes.”
We now noticed wheel tracks, some of them on our lawn and we knew that James had not worked a miracle but that the piano had come to the house by very human agencies. A broken plant showed where a horse’s hoof had toyed with it.
Our appearance on the path was the signal for the music to stop and Minerva came to the door perfectly radiant.
“It’s come, ma’am. The pianner has come,” said she, her eyes dancing with delight.
“Well, who sent it?” said I.
James had come out.
“Where did the piano come from, James?”
“I do’no’, sir,” said he. “I found it here when I come up to the house.”
“Why, it come in a wagon,” said Minerva.
She looked me in the eye and then she gave one of her chuckles.