Away they went, the whole party as merry as crickets,—laughing, singing, and joking, as they drove down the mountain. They might make as much noise as they pleased, on this lonely mountain road; there was no one but the squirrels and the wood-pigeons to be consulted, and they did not seem to object to the fun. The woods were lovely to-day. Crimson and gold, scarlet and purple, were gaining fast upon the green of the past summer; each moment, some one was calling to the others to look here, and look there, at the brilliant leaves, so wonderful in the richness and variety of their gay coloring.
When they had come down into the valley, where farms and cottages lay, and where people were coming and going, papa said they had better make less noise, or these good, quiet folks would think them a band of wild Indians coming down from the mountains. But the boys were beside themselves with fun and frolic, and it seemed impossible for them to be quiet. They had a flag with them, which they waved and cheered whenever they passed a house or saw laborers at work in the fields; and the people seemed to like it, and came running to see the fun, and waved and cheered in return, as good-naturedly as if they thought it was all done for their pleasure.
As they passed Aunt Patty's cottage, she drove out of the gate in her low pony carriage, with Nonesuch before it, on their way to the homestead. The old lady nodded and smiled, as if she were glad to see them so happy, but Nonesuch seemed not only surprised, but displeased, at finding himself in such jolly company; and, after some shaking of his head and putting back of his ears, stood stock still in the middle of the road; nor could all Aunt Patty's coaxing or scolding, or even some gentle touches of the whip, persuade him to go on, till the whole party were out of sight. Aunt Patty and Nonesuch often had such differences of opinion, and I am sorry to say the donkey generally had the better of the old lady.
What a delightful bustle there was when our friends arrived at the homestead, and the whole family came pouring out to receive them! For the time, Maggie and Bessie forgot the little sore spot in their hearts which was caused by the thought that they had no share in that which brought them all together, until lisping little Katy Bradford, who was very fond of her young cousins, said,—
"Maggie and Bethie, I'm tho thorry you have no flowerth for the thow."
"Yes," said Bessie, "it's a very mournful thing for us; but we try not to think too much about it."
"Papa ith going to give very nith prithes," said Katy, taking a very poor way to console her cousins; but she meant well. "We think he ith going to give thome one a canary-bird. Thith morning there hath been a bird thinging—oh, tho thweetly!—in the libr'y where papa hath the pritheth, and will not let uth go in, and Aleck thaid it wath a canary."
Maggie gave a little sigh.
"Bessie and I want a canary very much," she said. "There is one in the nursery at home; but we want one for our own room, and we are going to ask mamma to let us have it next Christmas."
"I'd jutht like you to have thith one, 'cauthe you're tho good and I love you," said Katy, and she put up her lips, for a kiss, to first one little cousin and then the other.