“Am going for Mr. Brown’s hammer.” Yet he came back. “What you want?”
“I’m going to take you over with me, if your mamma says so, to our house; and if you’re very good, Johnny, you shall ride on the donkey. May I take him, Mrs. Fargo?”
“Oh, if you only will!” breathed Mrs. Fargo thankfully.
“I don’t want any old hammer!” screamed Johnny in a transport; “the donkey’s a good deal gooder,” scrambling down the stairs.
“And I’ll send Mr. Brown up to open the box,” said Phronsie, tying on her hat, and going after him.
But she didn’t get Johnny over to the donkey, after all; for, just as she had seen Mr. Brown on his way up-stairs to open the box, some one ran up the steps, two at a time, with, “O Phronsie, I’ve a day off!” most joyfully.
“Why, I don’t see how, Dick,” said Phronsie, looking at him from under her big hat.
“Never mind. I have it, anyhow; tell you later. Now for some fun! That chap here?” looking suddenly at Johnny, who now began at the bottom of the steps to howl to Phronsie to hurry for the donkey.
“Yes; they came a week sooner than they expected,” said Phronsie. “They got here yesterday.”
“Botheration! Well, now, Phronsie, let the boy alone. I’m only here for a day, you know. He’s all right if turned out in the dirt to play. I want you to go to drive.”