“I wrote them down, dear,” said mamma. “You saw me?”
“Yes, but doesn’t writing sometimes get rubbed out? I think I can ’amember neely all if you asked me. Did Leigh tell you all about his reins, mamma?”
“Yes, dear. He was very particular indeed. I can’t think what has put reins in his head again. He told me some time ago that he thought he was getting too big for playing at horses. Perhaps it’s to amuse Artie.”
“I wonder,” said Mary, “if p’raps it’s something to do with Fuzzy.”
But her mother did not hear, or at least did not notice what she said. She had taken the paper with the list of things she had to do, out of her bag and was looking it over.
It seemed a long way to the town to Mary. It was between five and six miles, and she had not often driven so far, for you know she was still a very little girl. Now and then her mamma looked at her to see if she was getting sleepy, but every time she seemed quite bright. Her little mind was so full of all the messages they had to do that I don’t think she could have grown sleepy.
And there were a great many pretty and strange and interesting things to notice as they went along. Mamma kept pointing them out to her and talking about them. There were the flowers in the hedges to begin with—some late ones were still in bloom—here and there stray sprays of honeysuckle even, and low down, nearer the ground, there came now and then little glimpses of pretty colours where smaller wild-flowers, such as “ragged robin,” “speedwell,” “crow’s-foot,” and a few others were still peeping out.
“If I were a tiny flower,” said mamma, “I think I would choose my home on the inside of the hedge—the field-side. It would be so hot and dusty near the road.”
But Mary thought it would be nice to see the carriages and carts passing, and that it would be rather dull to see nothing but the grass, and then she and mamma laughed at their funny fancies, as if flowers had eyes and ears like children.
Then they passed a very queer-looking waggon lumbering along. It seemed like a house built of baskets and straw chairs and brushes instead of brick or stone, and Mary’s mamma told her it was a travelling shop, and that the people lived inside and had a little kitchen and a little bedroom, and that sometimes they were quite clean and tidy and nice people. There was a tiny window with a red curtain at the side of the waggon they passed, and Mary saw a little girl, with a nice rosy face, peeping out at her. She nearly jumped when she saw the little girl, and she pulled mamma to make her look.