WATCHING FOR THE COACH.
Willy Norton really was a very sweet boy. He proved it this morning by standing there so patiently and never singing out, "Ain't you most ready, Grandma?" although it did seem to him she never would be.
His mother was helping her pack too; he could hear them talking. "I guess I sha'n't put in father's best coat," Grandma Stockton remarked, among other things. "He won't be in Exeter over Sunday, and won't want it to go to meetin', and it musses it up so to put it in a valise."
"Well, I don't know as I would as long as you're coming back here," said his mother.
After a while she remarked further, "If father should want that coat, you can send for it, and I can put in Willy's other shoes with it."
Willy noticed that, because he himself had rather regretted not taking his other shoes. He had only his best ones, and he thought he might want to go berrying in Exeter and would spoil them tramping through the bushes and briers, and he did not like to wear shabby shoes.
"Well, I can; but I guess he won't want it," said Grandma.
At last the coach came in sight, and Grandma was all ready excepting her bonnet and gloves, and Grandpa had only to brush his hat very carefully and put it on; so they did not miss the train.
Willy's mother hugged him tight and kissed him. There were tears in her eyes. This was the first time he had ever been away from home without her. "Be a good boy," said she.