The cart rolled and pitched and the barrels lurched unsteadily. Then a spigot, insecurely fastened, and loosened by the jolting, came out of the bung-hole, followed by a spurting deluge of cider.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE RUNAWAY.
Poor little Kenneth, well-wedged into the corner, was really in danger of being seriously hurt by a reeling barrel, and gave vent to steady howls of terror. Zaidee and Helen clung to each other, and screamed in concert, as they pitched this way and that. The cart bumped and rattled along over the rough lane that led down to the mill.
Eunice and Hilda and Cricket were still sitting, with their feet swinging over the tail-board, holding on for dear life.
“Whoa! gee! haw!” shouted Eunice, steadily; but none of them realized that they were actually in any danger.
Suddenly the cart gave a tremendous lurch over a big stone, and then up a high “thank-you-ma’am.” The tail-board gave way, and the astonished girls were jerked violently forward, and then suddenly found themselves sitting in the dusty road. And on went the oxen.
The little ones, still more frightened when they found themselves alone in the cart, redoubled their howls. They were badly bruised with the jolting, drenched with cider, and scared out of their little wits.
“Let’s jump out, too,” screamed Zaidee, wild with terror.
“I’m ’fraid to,” sobbed Helen.
“I’m ’fraid to stay here—we—could—roll—out—just—as—easy,” the words coming in jerks, as the runaway team turned a dangerously sharp corner, nearly upsetting the reeling cart.