"If you thought it was this respectable dog who was playing with you just now, you were mistaken. It must have been some foolish little puppy, who did not know any better." And not even Bessie could coax him to play any more.
But at last fox, hen, and chickens were all called to supper, and went in together as peaceably as possible. The children were all placed round the room, some of them on the drollest kind of seats, which Mr. Jones had contrived for the occasion. Almost all of them were so low that every child could hold its plate on its lap, for there was not half room enough round the table.
They were scarcely arranged when a curious sound was heard outside, like a tapping on the piazza.
"That sounds just like my soldier's crutches," said Bessie. "But then it couldn't be, because he never could get up the bank."
But it seemed that the colonel could get up the bank, for as Bessie said this, she turned, and there he stood at the door, with Mrs. Rush at his side, both looking very smiling.
"Oh, it is, it is!" said Bessie, her whole face full of delight. "Oh, Maggie, he did come! he did get up! Oh, I'm perferly glad."
And indeed she seemed so. It was pretty to see her as she stood by the colonel, looking up at him with her eyes so full of love and pleasure, and a bright color in her cheeks; while Maggie, almost as much delighted, ran to the heavy arm-chair in which Grandpapa Duncan usually sat, and began tugging and shoving at it with all her might.
"What do you want to do, Maggie?" asked Tom Norris, as he saw her red in the face, and all out of breath.
"I want to take it to the door, so that he need not walk another step. Please help me, Tom," said Maggie, looking at the colonel who stood leaning on his crutches, and shaking hands with all the friends who were so glad to see him.