“Them pesky devil wagons,” said Goodman. “I wish there was a law agin’ them.”
It is not my intention to tell of all the things that happened on the way. The oxen got accustomed to automobiles long before we reached Oakham and our progress became slower and slower as we had to take to the side of the road to let pass us the constantly thickening stream of vehicles of all kinds from every part of the county bound for the fair. Arrived at the grounds, wherever pretty Cherry went the boys were sure to go, while we elders went off by ourselves.
Ethel and I had hardly had a minute together since our guests had begun coming, but Ethel seemed to have thrived on the extra work and the added excitement. Of course it was the unlimited fresh air that had made it possible. We looked back on a very happy summer and were glad that everything had happened as it had.
“I wonder if Cherry has made up her mind yet,” said Ethel, while we were watching the efforts of a man to hit a darkey’s head with a base ball.
“She’ll have to make it up quickly unless she wants Hepburn and Sibthorp to possess their souls in patience during the fall.”
“And whichever of the two she takes there will be two disappointed men.”
“What, Billy?”
“Yes, I think, after all, he is hard hit.”
“And she treats him with amusing indifference. There they all go to have their tin-types takes. What children they are!”
It may have been a half hour later that Ethel and I were watching the energetic seller of whips.