“Her feet are all puffed up,” said Meg, unbuttoning the little tan shoes. “Poor sister! But you can’t go barefoot through here––the Stones and things are too sharp.”
“They’ll cut you,” said Twaddles, who was watching anxiously.
“Let’s make a chair with our hands and carry her,” suggested Bobby.
So Meg and Bobby joined hands and managed to start off comfortably, carrying Dot.
Twaddles looked at them anxiously.
“It’s getting dark,” he quavered.
It was, too, a shadowy gray dusk there in the woods.
“I guess it’s only ’cause there’s so many trees,” said Meg cheerfully. “It can’t be dark out in the fields yet. I don’t believe Jud has even started to milk.”
They took up Dot again and went ahead, but it grew more and more difficult to follow the path.