“Starting his spring trip early, isn’t he?”
“Rather. I made him stay to dinner, and we talked and talked.”
Simon drove one of the big covered wagons which are common in Nova Scotia. They have double doors at the back, and are filled with all kinds of groceries and notions, a regular general store on wheels. Many parts of the country are so thinly settled that it would be impossible for people to obtain certain supplies without the existence of these interesting wagons. Some of them specialize in certain things, like ready-to-wear clothing, but most of them carry a little of everything.
“Did he have anything interesting to tell?”
The proprietors of these odd stores act as relayers of bits of news, as well as merchandise, and often bear messages from one part of the peninsula to the other.
“Why—why—I don’t—really know,” faltered Desiré.
“Don’t know?” repeated her brother, turning to look at her in surprise; for although she dearly loved her home, she was always eager for contacts with the outside world.
“Well, you see, we talked business all the time.”
“Business?” he queried, more and more puzzled.
“Yes. Oh, Jack, let us get a wagon!”