"Yes," said Sam; "Deacon Dustan was over to town when he came, and brought him straight here."
There was a general rush for the house. Lizzie—for the first time voluntarily—abandoned the baby to Mr. Kerchey's arms, and ran to greet her old friend. Georgie, who had not forgotten the clergyman, came slipping down the tree, regardless of damage done his clothes.
"What else could have happened, to give us a more delightful surprise?" cried Chester. "Come, Phronie. Now you will see, and judge for yourself, the glorious old man you have heard me tell so much about."
Hepsy was not the last to start. But she stopped to take Jenny with her.
"Come, dear," said she, "you must have your face washed now. What are you doing?"
The child, seated upon the turf, was absorbed in the anatomy of a grasshopper. It was one of the oldest of its race,—a large, respectable fellow, over an inch long. In pursuing her investigations, however, Jenny had taken its head off; and it had thus fallen a victim to infant science.
"Why, Jenny!" exclaimed Hepsy, "you have killed the poor thing!"
"Are you sorry?" lisped the little girl, with beautiful simplicity. "You needn't be," she added, cheerily. "There's enough more of 'em."
It took Hepsy a good while to explain exactly why children should not indulge a passion for decapitating insects; and Jenny was sadly troubled when allusion was made to the gentle removal of her own fair head from her shoulders, in order that she might judge how grasshoppers felt under the circumstances.