“Well,” answered Rollo, “let me see; first I used to carry the milk-pails up from the cow-barn for Jonas; then I would sweep the steps and well-kerb and draw a fresh pail of water from the well. During the day I would pile wood, gather potatoes, rake up after the hay-wagon, or weed the garden. Then in the evening I often did my sums or helped with the churning.”
“Very good,” said his mother. “Now in the country I speak of, you will do none of these things.”
“Hurrah!” cried Rollo.
“Be silent,” said his mother. “You must not interrupt. Your Cousin Stella’s mother has written to me asking if you could not come to them in the country to spend a week-end.”
“Which end of the week should I spend?” asked Rollo.
“Both,” said his mother. “Or rather, the end of one week and the beginning of another, for you are to go on Friday and stay over Lord’s Day. Should you like to go?”
“Indeed, yes,” said Rollo pleasantly.
“Very well, I shall speak to your father about it this evening, for we must first have his consent.”
“Oh, dear,” said Rollo.
“I do not see why Rollo should be sent to the country when we have just moved to the city,” said Rollo’s father when the expedition was explained to him. “It seems very strange to me that city-folk with magnificent palaces to live in should, at this time of year, seal up their doors and windows and go to the expense of living in another place.”