"O come, aunt, look, look, they are all getting into the coach," Dora cried with visible delight, for she had never in her life seen anything so jolly.
One boy leaped up over the wheel into the seat beside the driver, then stooping far down, stretched out his arm towards the barking, jumping dog.
"Come, Schnurri, come Schnurri!" cried the boy, trying in vain to catch hold of the shaggy dog's paw or ears.
At last, Hans, the coachman, almost flung the pet up to the boy. Meanwhile, the oldest boy lifted up a dangling little girl and, swinging her up, set her in the coach.
"Me, too, Jul, me, too! Lift me still higher, lift me still higher!" cried out two little boys, one as round as a ball, the other a little taller. They jumped up, begging their elder brother, crowing with anticipation at what was coming.
Then came twice more the swinging motion and their delight was accompanied by considerable noise. The big boy, followed by the eldest girl, who had waited until the little ones were seated, stepped in and the door was shut with a terrific bang by Jul's powerful arm. When the horses started, quite a different noise began.
"If Schnurri can go, Philomele can go too! Trine, Trine!" cried the little girl loudly. "Give me Philomele."
The energetic young kitchen-maid, at once comprehending the situation, appeared at the door. Giving a hearty laugh, she took hold of the gray cat that sat squatting on the stone steps, and looking up mistrustfully at Schnurri on top, and threw her right into the middle of the carriage. With a sharp crack of the whip the company departed.
Full of fright, Aunt Ninette had hastened to her husband's room to see what impression this incident had made upon him. He sat unmoved at his table with his window tightly shut.
"My dear Titus, who could have guessed such a thing? What shall we do?" moaned the aunt.