“That’s just like Molly. She’s an awful generous girl, Molly is.”
Miss Lucy was about to suggest that some other adjective than “awful” would better apply to “generous,” but refrained. It would not do, she considered, to begin too sternly or suddenly in the reconstruction of her charge. She simply replied:
“Yes. She is generous and lovable. She has excellent common sense.”
Towsley found his tongue and launched into praise of the whole family of Johns, with such graphic pictures of their daily life that Miss Armacost felt well acquainted with the entire household. Then the little fellow became absorbed in the excitement of the ride, and the novelty of dashing around and around the lake, in that endless line of prancing horses and skimming vehicles, set his tongue a-chatter ceaselessly.
Miss Lucy listened, in a sort of charm. The few children whom she knew were apt to be rather quiet in her presence, but not so this lad from the back alley. He enjoyed everything, saw everything, described everything, like a keen reporter of the papers he had used to sell.
“Look-a-there! and there! and there! Did you see that? That was a regular clothes-basket, set on a pair of runners! Sure; it all goes. Snow doesn’t come down here very often. Why, up north, in New York, or Boston, or such places, they have sleighing whenever they’ve a mind to! but not down here. Folks daren’t lose a chance, dare they? See! There’s a regular old vender’s wagon, that a lot of young folks have hired, and they’re old cow-bells they’ve put on the horses. Ki! look-a-there! look-a-there! Them’s woman’s college girls—sure! Whew! regular hay-riggers, ain’t they! They must have took all their money to pay for it! And—shucks! just see them bobs!”
In his excitement the little boy stood up and pointed frantically toward a group of boys who had brought out their long sleds and were hastening toward that hill of the park where coasting would be permitted. Unconsciously he attracted a deal of attention from the throngs of pleasure-seekers, and Miss Armacost felt herself unpleasantly conspicuous. Yet there was not an eye which beheld him that did not brighten because of his happiness; and in spite of her annoyance at the gaze of her fellow townsmen, the owner of the chestnuts felt also a sort of pride in its cause.
But at last she ordered the coachman homeward, and they rode slowly out of the park, down the beautiful Avenue toward the Armacost mansion and Towsley’s new home. He sank back into his place with a profound sigh of mingled pleasure and regret:
“To think they never had a sleigh-ride!”
“Humph! How many have you had, before this one, Lionel?”