“Yes; mother called me back to get them, after I started. They were some new ones, made with cream, and she thought aunt Sarah would like them.”
Pretty soon they started. It was hard work; for the way was very rough, and poor Hannah weak. But Ann had a good deal of strength in her lithe young frame, and she half carried Hannah over the worst places. Still both of the girls were pretty well spent when they came to the last of the bits of wool on the border of Bear Swamp. However, they kept on a little farther; then they had to stop and rest. “I know where I am now,” said Hannah, with a sigh of delight; “but I don't think I can walk another step.” She was, in fact, almost exhausted.
Ann looked at her thoughtfully. She hardly knew what to do. She could not carry Hannah herself—indeed, her own strength began to fail; and she did not want to leave her to go for assistance.
All of a sudden, she jumped up. “You stay just where you are a few minutes, Hannah,” said she. “I'm going somewhere. I'll be back soon.” Ann was laughing.
Hannah looked up at her pitifully: “O Ann, don't go!”
“I'm coming right back, and it is the only way. You must get home. Only think how your father and mother are worrying!”
Hannah said no more after that mention of her parents, and Ann started.
She was not gone long. When she came in sight she was laughing, and Hannah, weak as she was, laughed, too. Ann had torn her blue apron into strips, and tied it together for a rope, and by it she was leading a red cow.
Hannah knew the cow, and knew at once what the plan was.
“O Ann! you mean for me to ride Betty!”