"Bother us?" echoed Rosemary in astonishment. "Bother us? Why, it is the loveliest playing we have ever heard!"
Richard judged this an excellent time to ask a question.
"How would you like to go over to the poor farm?" he suggested, pulling Shirley back from the dusty wheel and taking a firm grip on Sarah with the other hand to prevent her from crawling under the horse—for what reason she alone knew.
"The poor farm?" Rosemary's mind immediately leaped to the Gays.
"Oh, Richard, do let's go!" she cried, her enthusiasm kindling. "I've always wanted to see the poor farm."
"Well, your brother goes there often enough," said Mr. Hildreth drily. "It's thanks to him that the new Board of Freeholders put in decent plumbing all through the place."
Richard climbed back into his seat and took the reins.
"Well, be ready in about fifteen minutes," he directed. "It's thanks to Mr. Hildreth that the poor-farm folks are going to get some early tomatoes."
"I've a good mind to cuff you," said the exasperated Mr. Hildreth who had never been known to raise his hand against anyone. (Warren had once remarked that when he raised his voice he needed no further reinforcements.) "It's a pity when we have the first tomatoes and more than we can use, not to send those poor creatures a few."
The "few" tomatoes proved to be six peach baskets full and they made a crimson splash in the back of the light spring wagon Warren presently drove around harnessed to the useful Solomon.