“Oh, Teddy, if you only could!” gasped Eileen. “I’m sure Logan’s old van will be late coming over, and I do want to unpack as soon as I get home.”
“Well, keep your eye on them mailbags, till I come back,” ordered Teddy, as he hurried off with the big light one; and Eileen sat on the wooden bench and watched him rope it on to the back.
“There’s no doubt Teddy is good,” she thought, “and I’m glad now that I brought him that tie instead of spending the money on that check ribbon for myself that I felt I wanted so badly; but I couldn’t get them both, so I am glad now that I decided on the tie for Teddo.”
“You’ve got it fixed on beautifully,” she said, as Teddy hurried back to get the mail and the second box; but he was too important, and hurried to answer her as he rushed round, strapping on boxes and bags.
“All aboard,” he called at last, and Eileen climbed up on to the seat beside him.
“Oh, it’s lovely to be back again. Teddo!—just lovely, and everything looks so big and so wide and so breezy, and there is such a lot of space, and I bet they’ll be glad to see me at home again.”
“My word, they will!” agreed Teddy, “and so you got lonely down there?”
“Yes, real lonely. I just couldn’t stay a day longer. Goodness me, Teddo, I just felt inclined to take to my heels and run and run till I got here, and I just felt that I loved everything and everybody up here. Why, I believe I’ll fairly kiss the old cows and hug the pet lambs and dogs and chickens when I get home, and—but what’s the matter, Teddo?”
For Teddo had gone off into a fit of laughter—he was so hugely entertained.
“And before you’re home a week you’ll be sick of them all,” he said at last.