"Look!" cried Mary Jane, "there's their mother!"
The sound of a voice startled the little mother and she ran away, lipity, lipity, lip; lipity, lipity, lip; such a funny little run! till she reached the shelter of a log. There she waited—they could see the tip, white of her tail through the leaves.
"She's waiting to see what happens to her babies!" exclaimed Mary Jane, and suddenly she made up her mind about rabbit pets. "Let's leave them here, John," she said quickly. "Their mother's lonesome if they go up to the house. Let's leave them here and I'll give you half of my ducks."
"All right," agreed John, "but may I come and see them sometimes, Grandfather?"
"As often as you like. You just let me know and we'll come twice a day," said Grandfather, "and you'll have most as much fun with the ducks, I'll wager. Now let's see if we can't hunt up some dinner." And they turned to the house.
Such a big day as Mary Jane and John did have! They played and they hunted eggs and they rode on the cow; yes, that can be done, didn't you ever try it? And they fed the chickens, and by night time they were so sleepy and tired they hardly noticed their supper.
But after supper Grandfather sat down to look at his paper. And as he spread it out before him he suddenly chuckled to himself.
"The very thing!" he said, "the very thing! Why didn't I think of that before?" Then he looked over at the droopy-eyed little folks sitting on the window seat. "But I suppose you wouldn't care to go?"
"Go where?" exclaimed both children in a breath. "Where, Grandfather?"
"What you talking about, Father?" asked Grandmother.