The letter said:—
“Dear Sir, and Ladies,—It is proposed to make a small presentation to you, in commemoration of your prompt and courageous action in warning the train on the —- inst., and thus averting what must, humanly speaking, have been a terrible accident. The presentation will take place at the —- Station at three o'clock on the 30th inst., if this time and place will be convenient to you.
“Yours faithfully,
“Jabez Inglewood.
“Secretary, Great Northern and Southern Railway Co.”
There never had been a prouder moment in the lives of the three children. They rushed to Mother with the letter, and she also felt proud and said so, and this made the children happier than ever.
“But if the presentation is money, you must say, 'Thank you, but we'd rather not take it,'” said Mother. “I'll wash your Indian muslins at once,” she added. “You must look tidy on an occasion like this.”
“Phil and I can wash them,” said Bobbie, “if you'll iron them, Mother.”
Washing is rather fun. I wonder whether you've ever done it? This particular washing took place in the back kitchen, which had a stone floor and a very big stone sink under its window.
“Let's put the bath on the sink,” said Phyllis; “then we can pretend we're out-of-doors washerwomen like Mother saw in France.”
“But they were washing in the cold river,” said Peter, his hands in his pockets, “not in hot water.”
“This is a HOT river, then,” said Phyllis; “lend a hand with the bath, there's a dear.”