"We could go to some small town and settle down," said Mrs. Toymaker. "When winter comes, a wandering life will not be very pleasant. Mitz and Fritz should go to school. This gypsy life is not the best life for them."
| SAT UPON THE STEPS OF THEIR WAGON |
Mr. Toymaker said, "That is quite true. Let us find a town where people are not spoiled by fine toys. There we shall settle and be content to live simply."
"I do wish—" began Mrs. Toymaker.
She had started to talk about Fritz. However, she knew that it made Mr. Toymaker angry. So she stopped.
They sat together for a long time. Mrs. Toymaker knitted. Mr. Toymaker smoked a pipe. Both were so full of serious thoughts that they did not wonder about Mitz and Fritz. They did not wonder why the children had not been there since noon. As the shadows grew longer and a little late breeze blew up, Mrs. Toymaker arose.
"I must prepare supper," she said. "I wonder where the children are."
She called, "Fritz! Mitz!" But there was no answer.
"What is that I see in the distance?" asked Mr. Toymaker.
He shaded his eyes with his hand. He looked in the direction of the setting sun. Mrs. Toymaker looked, too. Black forms were coming toward them. A crowd of people was drawing near, following some one who made music.