“Well, we’ll all go,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “I used to know how to drive a horse, and if Bert gets into any trouble I can help him out. But don’t upset this load, son,” he warned with a laugh, as he put the small twins into the cart, while he helped Nan up and then got in himself. They sat on boards placed across the high sides of the cart.
“I’ll be very careful,” promised Bert.
The turtle, which had been the innocent cause of the other accident, crawled off in the high grass around the barn. Bert started Tramper back on the trip to the orchard, and this time he made the return with a load of peaches in safety, driving proudly into the barn, almost as well as one of the men could have done.
The barn and the orchard were now busy places, for Mr. Watson wanted to get as much fruit to market as he could while the weather was good. He expected to make two or more pickings, as more and more peaches were ripened by the sun. And the earlier he could haul his fruit to market the more money he would get.
“It’s the early fruit that sells best,” he said.
The sorting went on in the big barn, basket after basket of choice yellow and red peaches being packed, covered, and set in a cool place, ready to be taken the next day on the big truck to Hitchville. There there was quite a large peach market, where buyers came from the big cities miles away to bargain for the fruit.
“And we’re going there to-morrow!” sang Flossie that night, after a day of fun, part of which was spent in the peach orchard.
“Are we going to take Baby May—I mean Baby Jenny?” asked Nan of Mrs. Watson.
“No,” was the answer. “She will be better off at home. I have told your father that Jenny and I are sorry to decline his nice invitation to go along. But when she gets as big as you I expect she will help her father gather the peaches,” she added, as she cuddled the baby in her arms.
The next day was a fine one, the sun shining down from a sky of blue with white clouds floating here and there like sailing ships.