VI.
THE TALKING-SADDLE AND THE THIEF.
The queer-looking girl was running from the very queer-looking boy, and both were laughing loudly. When they saw the children sitting at the table they both stopped suddenly. The queer-looking girl turned and made a wry face at the very queer-looking boy. At this both burst out laughing, and suddenly stopped again.
“Be ashamed of yourselves!” exclaimed old Mr. Rabbit, rapping on the floor with his cane. “Be ashamed! Where are your manners? Go and speak to our friends and make your best bow, too,—don’t forget that!” Mr. Rabbit appeared to be very indignant.
Mrs. Meadows was in a better humor. “This,” she said, as the queer-looking girl came forward, “is Chickamy Crany Crow, and this,” as the very queer-looking boy came timidly up, “is Tickle-My-Toes.”
They bowed, and then went off a little way, looking very solemn and comical. They didn’t dare glance at each other for fear they would begin laughing again. The reason they looked so queer was because, although they acted like children, they were old in appearance,—as old as a person past middle age.
“They are country-raised, poor things! You’ll have to excuse them. They don’t know any better.” Mr. Thimblefinger sighed as he said this, and looked thoughtful.
“What about the Talking-Saddle?” Buster John inquired. “You said the story wasn’t finished.”