"And then," he added, "you can jump right into the wagon and be there in three minutes."
He was the most perfect boy to plan at a moment's notice, but Louis told him not to hazard his life on the belfry ladder for we could manage it all without.
"And besides," he said, "you, Ben, must walk into church with us; we are not going unprotected. Hal and Mary, Ben and little mother, and Mr. Minot with his wife and Aunt Hildy. That is the programme as I have it."
You should have seen those eyes of the young farmer dilate with surprise as he gave a long and significant whistle and turned toward home, doubtless thinking to surprise Hal and Mary with this new chapter in his experience.
The 10th day of June brought us a letter from Aunt Phebe with news of her marriage.
"Weddins don't never go alone more'n funerals," said Aunt Hildy. "Here Miss Hungerford's been married since February, and we've just heard tell of it. Hope she's got a good, sensible man, but 'taint likely; no two very sensible folks get very near each other, that is, for life. She's a good woman. What does he do to git a livin'?"
"Teaches school," I replied.
"Hem!" said she, "school teachers don't generally know much else. Eddicated men aint great on homelife; they want a monstrous sight of waitin' on."
"Let us hope for the best in this case," said I. "Here comes Matthias; he knows Mr. Dayton, I believe."
"Yas, Miss Em'ly, I does," said Matthias, who heard my last remark.