“Here she comes through the cut,” called out Don, holding the ponies. “Good-bye all!”
Mr. Murray held Jean close in his arms.
“God bless you, my lass,” he said, gently. “Take good care of Peggie for us this winter. Good-bye, girls. Come again when you’re up this way.”
Jimmie had sprung to his own saddle, and his black pony was doing a waltz step all its own when the train pulled in. He swung his hat off in one last salute, and let the bridle slacken, and the last the girls saw of him, he was going like a rocket down the road towards the town, singing at the top of his lungs, his old favorite,
“Guide me, Oh, Thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land!”
Polly leaned back from the window, her eyes wet with tears.
“Isn’t it a darling land?” she said, warmly.
“It’s Heart’s Content to us who love it,” Jean replied, and the girls knew well what she meant.