“But look here, Bill, you mustn’t foller us ’round all day, for I don’t b’lieve Mr. Shindle would like it.”
“Oh, we don’t ’low to do that. Jest wanter get ’quainted with the farmer. We’ll take a sneak when you come ’cross the ferry.”
“All right. Wait here, an’ as soon’s breakfast is over we’ll be down.”
Then Tom re-entered the house without telling Josiah of the escort which had arrived.
The boy from Berry’s Corner was deeply engaged in packing the well-worn valise, and counting his money in order to see how much he might spend in purchasing the presents for his father and mother.
He was happier now than he had been on the Monday morning previous; for, although charmed to a certain degree with the city, he preferred to live in the country, and was decidedly impatient to be at Berry’s Corner again, where there would be no danger of another arrest.
Life in New York no longer had any charms for him. He had seen Bob and Tom at work, and felt certain that next summer when called upon to weed the long rows of carrots, the task would seem less laborious as compared with theirs, and decidedly more pleasant.
The city was so big, the throngs of people on the street so intent on their own business without apparently being able to bestow a thought upon others, and the noise so wearying and bewildering, that it would be very pleasant to stand once more by the side of the long, dusty road which stretched away in the distance, like a yellow ribbon between the green and nodding trees.
Fishing for chubs in the laughing, sparkling brook was much more delightful than peering through the shop windows at things which he wanted but could not purchase, and romping in the back pasture with Towser was more like sport than an hour spent on the street in the vicinity of Baker’s Court.
In addition to his desire to be at home once more, was the fact that when his father arrived a certain scheme, to which he had given no slight amount of thought, might possibly be put into execution.