“There’s a circus comin’ to town next week,” he said. “Guess it’s going to be a pretty good show.”
“Oh, what bully fun!” cried Christopher. “We know a little circus girl,” and he told the story of Letty and the bear. Together they studied the bills as they passed, comparing notes as to their opinion of the different feats advertised and choosing which side-shows they would like best to see.
This amiable conversation occupied them all the rest of the drive.
Sunnycrest was a big white house on the top of a ridge. In front, except for a wide square of green lawn just before the house, the grounds sloped so steeply that terraces had been made every few yards, and at the bottom ran a delightful little brook. At the bottom of the hill were the farmhouse, barn, chicken and cow-houses and, where the brook curved and ran through a shallow, cemented basin, the spring-house and dairy. Behind the house was a big orchard and beyond stretched fields of grain and hay.
Christopher jumped down from the wagon almost before it stopped and rushed into the kitchen where Jane’s bobbed head could be seen, topped with a big pink bow. Huldah the cook was another old and very dear friend of the children’s.
“Hullo, Huldah. Got any ginger cakes?” shouted Christopher. “My stomach just aches for one of your spiced ginger cakes. Haven’t had one for two years, you know.”
“I’m afraid your stomach will ache still more before you are through,” mildly observed grandmother, who had followed him in.
But she did not forbid his eating the cakes, even though supper was almost ready. That is one of the privileges of growing old enough to be a grandmother.
The two horses had brought the carriage home at a much quicker rate than the heavily loaded wagon could travel and Jane had already explored the whole place in her quiet, energetic way. She had learned all the news regarding live stock new and old and had petted all her favorites. Dora the cat was specially friendly and Jane was convinced that the little animal remembered her from her former visit, two years before.
“I think that’s quite remarkable in a cat, don’t you, grandmother?” she said. “Now, if it was Juno, I shouldn’t be so surprised. Dogs always remember people. But with cats, it’s different.”