Donald was the old Scotch gardener who lived at Riverside. He had been there for a great many years, long before Maggie and Bessie were born, long enough, as Maggie said, "to learn to talk American," if he had chosen to do so. But Donald loved the dear old Scotch brogue which reminded him of his fatherland so far away, and was at no pains to drop it; and our little girls liked him none the less that they sometimes found it hard work to understand him. And they had good reason to like him, for he was glad to see them when they came to Riverside, and tried all he could to make their visits pleasant to them. They were in a great hurry to find him this morning, and could scarcely rest till they had permission to do so.
"Well, well," said Grandpapa Duncan, "this is a nice thing. Have you grown so fond of Donald since you have been away that you have hardly time to speak to me before you run away to see him?"
"Oh, no, grandpapa," said Maggie, "we like Donald very much, but you know we like you a great deal more; but you see we are so anxious about the puppy."
"Oh, ho! then it is the puppy you like better than me? I do not see that that mends the matter."
"Now, grandpapa!" said Maggie.
"Couldn't you come with us, grandpapa?" asked Bessie, coaxingly.
"Yes, do," said Maggie, "it's such a nice, pleasant day. It will do you good."
"And it will do us good to have you," said Bessie.
Grandpapa was very much pleased, but though there was a smile on his lips and in his eye, he wrinkled up his brow and pretended to think it was very hard he should be asked to go out. Perhaps he wanted to be coaxed a little more.