“No way ’tall; just through this wood, and through another field, and there you be.”
“Is it a house on wheels?” asked Ralph.
“Now, ain’t you a ’cute little master! There are wheels to our house.”
“And does it move?”
“In course, it moves!”
“I should love it to move,” said Ralph—“and to feel it move.”
“Then, you shall, my pretty little dear. You come along with me, and we’ll harness old Dobbin to the house, and take you a bit across the field and give you a basket, and you shall be back again here in time for your school-mother afore she misses you.”
Ralph considered for a minute.
“We must be very, very quick,” he said. “I shouldn’t like to vex my school-mother. Shall we run, brown gipsy man?”
“Yes,” said the man.