"We can't," said Peletiah, trying his best to hurry after her. "Mother doesn't let us go out of the yard when she's away; and beside, there isn't any corner—the road just goes round."
"Oh, bother!" Rachel whirled around and stamped her foot impatiently.
"And 'twill come past our house," contributed Ezekiel, gaining her side, "so let's sit on the doorstep till it comes."
"And you can tell us about the funerals you've seen in the city," suggested
Peletiah, who had been thinking about them ever since.
"All right," said Rachel, seeing she was not to lose sight of the parade she so dearly loved. "Whoopity—la!" She flung herself down on the long, flat doorstone, and whipped her gown neatly away on either side. "I'm goin' to sit in the middle."
The boys, very much pleased at this arrangement, which they would never have thought of suggesting, sat down sedately in their places and folded their hands in their laps.
"Now tell about those funerals," said Peletiah.
"Well, let me think," said Rachel, reflecting; "you see, I've seen so many.
Hmm! Oh, I know!" She jumped so suddenly that she came near precipitating
Ezekiel, who was leaning forward to attain a better view of her face, off
into the middle of the peony bed.
"Take care!" Rachel twitched him back into his place. "Yes, I'm goin' to tell you about one perfectly splendid funeral I see just——"
"You mustn't say 'see,'" corrected Peletiah, with disapproval. He was fairly longing for the recital, but it would never do to let such a slip in conversation pass.