“For goodness’ sake!” cried Jud, coming back in time to view this wholesale damage. “What have you been up to now?”
Meg explained.
“There must have been eggs in that hay,” said Twaddles disapprovingly.
“Some hen stole her nest, and you’ve finished her hopes,” sighed Jud. “I must say you’re a sweet looking mess. Wonder what Miss Polly will say?”
“My! and the minister’s coming to supper,” announced Bobby, remembering this for the first time.
“I thought you looked dressed up,” Jud groaned. “I suppose I ought to have paid more attention. Well, come on, we’ll go up the back way and I’ll tell Miss Polly most of it was my fault.”
The four little Blossoms, eggy and milky, followed Jud up to the house. He meant to take 82 them in through the kitchen in case the minister should be on the front porch and so spare Aunt Polly’s company the sight of such a forlorn procession. But, just as they rounded the back of the house, they met Aunt Polly showing the minister and his wife her kitchen garden.
“Twaddles!” gasped poor Aunt Polly, for Twaddles was ahead.
“We––we––we were learning to milk,” said Meg apologetically.
The minister and his wife took one look at the four, and then they sat down on the back doorstep and laughed and laughed. After a minute Aunt Polly joined them, and then the children and Jud began to giggle.