And then, all of a sudden, Mary looked, and she saw a grocery wagon on the street, out in front, and the horse hitched to the wagon was walking slowly along, and there was no one driving him.
“Look at that!” cried Mary. “That horse is running away.”
“I guess you mean he’s walking away,” said Johnny. “He isn’t running.”
“Well, he’s going away, anyhow,” insisted Mary, “and the driver isn’t there and the horse may bunk the wagon into something, and smash it, and then the grocery man would lose a lot of money.”
“Well, what can we do about it?” asked Tommy.
“We might go out, and stop the horse from going away,” continued Mary, “and then we could telephone to the man who owns it, to come and get it from in front of our house.”
Johnny looked all around the room. So did Tommy. Their papa and mamma weren’t there. Neither was the nursemaid.
“Do you think going out to stop the horse would be a special, extra-extraordinary occasion?” asked Tommy, of Mary.
“Whoa There, Horsie!” She Called