“And we were to sit in behind,” shouted Joel—“Dave and me. Oh, g’lang! didn’t we have fun, though!” cracking an imaginary whip.
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Van discontentedly, and rolling over on the library rug; “why couldn’t we ever have lived in a little brown house and sat in behind in a green wagon.”
“Mamma,” screamed little Dick, with cheeks all aflame, and plunging up to Mrs. Whitney’s side, “can’t we? can’t we?”
“What, dear?” asked Mrs. Whitney.
“Sit in behind in a green wagon? Can’t we, mamma, just like Polly and Phronsie, and”—
“Ha, ha! Polly and Phronsie didn’t sit in behind,” shouted Joel, “they sat on the seat with Ben; Dave and me sat”—
“I sat with Polly and Bensie,” announced Phronsie, clasping her hands in delight, and drawing a long sigh of satisfaction; “and I could see the horse, and we were going to get red-topped shoes.”
“Yes, she wanted them,” said Ben, nodding to the others. “Oh! it just scared me, for I was afraid we couldn’t get them.”
“But we did,” declared Phronsie, shaking her yellow head positively—“oh! beautiful red-topped ones, Grandpapa;” and she turned to him confidingly.