“All right,” said Jud.
“How do you go up in the mountain?” inquired Meg curiously, as they turned into the road.
She was sitting on the front seat with Peter, Twaddles was between them, and Dot was in her lap. Bobby stood up in the wagon behind them and looked over their shoulders.
“I guess I mean up on the mountain,” Peter corrected himself. “We’ve got kind of a habit round here of saying ‘in the mountain.’ Ever been up there?”
The four little Blossoms had never been there––indeed they did not know there was a mountain near by.
“Well, I suppose it’s more of a hill,” admitted 120 Peter. “But it’s the best mountain we have. Queer people live up there. They don’t see much of anybody, and some of ’em’s as timid as deer. The children, now, run when they see a stranger coming.”
“What are we going to get?” asked Bobby. He had been long enough on the farm to know that when one harnessed up a horse and wagon there was usually something to be fetched or carried.
“I’m going up to see if I can’t get a woman to come down next week and help Mrs. Peter do some cleaning,” explained Peter. “Help’s scarce in the town, and some of the mountain-folk like to earn a little money in the summer. Miss Polly taking the buggy, I had to get along with the market wagon. ’Sides, the thought came to me that I might meet some one who wanted a ride.”
Meg saw Peter’s eyes twinkling and she guessed that he had meant to ask them to go with him all the time.
Terry was going up a steep road now, narrow as well as steep, and the untrimmed trees lashed 121 against the curtained sides of the wagon as it passed.