The winding of the coachman's horn, which never failed to set the boys dancing with delight, sounded mellow and clear on the morning air.
"It's going to stop! it's going to stop!" cried Oleah, clapping his little hands.
"It's going to stop! it's going to stop!" shouted Abner, and both kept up a frantic shouting, "Whoa, whoa!" to the prancing horses as they drew near the house.
It paused in front of the gate, and Mrs. Tompkins and her two boys hurried down the walk.
Mr. Tompkins' baggage had just been taken from the boot and placed inside the gate, and the stage had rolled on, as his wife and two boys came up to the traveler.
"Mamma first, and me next," said Oleah, preparing his red lips for the expected kiss.
"And I come after Oleah," said Abner.
Mr. Tompkins called to a negro boy who was near to carry the baggage to the house, and the happy group made their way to the great piazza, the two boys clinging to their father's hands and keeping up a torrent of questions. Where had he been? What had he seen? What had he brought home for them? The porch reached, Mrs. Tompkins drew up the arm-chair for her tired husband.
"Rest a few minutes," she said, "and then you can take a bath and change your clothes, and you will feel quite yourself once more."
The planter took the seat, with a bright-faced child perched on each side of him.