’Gustus John’s slower brain could only take in one fact.
“Let go the lines, ’Mandy,” he said, sharply, as one of the horses reared at the sudden twitch of the reins. “Hain’t I told yer more’n five hundred times not to do that on no account?”
“The children, ’Gustus John!” gasped ’Manda, rising in her place, and looking back. “We’ve lost the children! where can they be?”
“Lost ’em out?” ’Gustus John pulled up so suddenly that the horses fell back on their haunches. “My Gummy!” He whirled the horses around, and drove back. As they came to the curve, they saw Eunice and Cricket in the road, trying to get out of the heavy shawls, which wrapped them like mummies.
“Well, I declare for it! Are you hurt, children?” ’Manda called, eagerly.
Both little girls came up laughing.
“No, not a bit,” they declared. They had not struck their backs at all, only slipped right out, seat and all, and the thick shawls had protected them. ’Gustus John was ready to sink into the ground with mortification.
“I swan! I never did forget that ’ere seat fastenin’ before. To think I’ve been and done it this mornin’ of all mornin’s. I’m ashamed to look your pa in the face ever agin, when I’ve pretty nigh killed ye both.”
“Why, we’re not hurt the least bit,” Cricket assured him, eagerly, as he fixed the seat firmly in its place again. “It was lots of fun going over. It slipped off just as easy!”
’Manda felt the children all over very carefully, to make sure that no bones were broken, she said, though, seeing how lively the children were, there was little fear of that.