“I’ve got a little cow of my own. Wouldn’t you like a little cow? I’ll give you mine,” said Ally fervently. “And Essie has a cat, Erminie; and she brings her kittens into the house for us to see. And there’s beautiful dogs. And we take rides on a pony—Uncle Billy holds us on; you shall have my turn. And we feed the hens—there’s a darling white hen with fifteen chickens,” went on the little coaxer. “And we have gardens and make flowers grow. Do the Children of the Hill make flowers grow? Essie and Janet think they do.”
“Who’s de Childurn o’ de Hill?” asked Sally. “Youse sure it ain’t no bloomin’ Statution down there?”
“I don’t know anything about a ’Statution. It’s Old Uncle’s farm.”
“Perhaps it’s a Fresh Air farm?” said Sally. “I know w’ot dat is. I was to a Fresh Air farm once. You bet it was nice!”
“This is nice,” urged Ally. “’Tis a Fresh Air farm, I guess,” she said triumphantly. “And Diane makes us such nice cakes, and gives us honey. There’s lots of ’licious things down there.”
“Do youse play tag?” interrupted Sally.
“And goal, and ball, and Old Man’s Castle, and see-saw, and—and—Essie’ll give you her other doll if you’ll come, and I’ll help carry the baby down for you! Oh, isn’t he a dear! I love a baby—a baby’s better than a doll. You brought him back on purpose to Aunt Susan, didn’t you?”
And then Ally’s arms were thrown round Sally, and she was kissing the poor little bewildered face.
“I guess I’ll come,” said Sally, struggling up. “I want to see dis Aunt Susan.”