“You’ll also be glad to hear that Mr Twitter with all his family is to join this band. It quite puts me in mind of the story of the Pilgrim Fathers, that I once heard in dear Mr Holland’s meeting hall, long ago. I wish he could come too, and all his people with him, and all the ladies from the Beehive. Wouldn’t that be charming! But, then,—who would be left to look after London? No, it is better that they should remain at home.
“Poor Mr Twitter never quite got the better of his fire, you see, so he sold his share in his business, and is getting ready to come. His boys and girls will be a great help to him in Canada, instead of a burden as they have been in London—the younger ones I mean, of course, for Molly, and Sammy, and Willie have been helping their parents for a long time past. I don’t think Mrs Twitter quite likes it, and I’m sure she’s almost breaking her heart at the thought of leaving George Yard. It is said that their friends Mrs Loper, Mrs Larrabel, Stickler, and Crackaby, want to join, but I rather think Sir Richard isn’t very keen to have them. Mr Stephen Welland is also coming. One of Sir Richard’s friends, Mr Brisbane I think, got him a good situation in the Mint—that’s where all the money is coined, you know—but, on hearing of this expedition to Canada, he made up his mind to go there instead; so he gave up the Mint—very unwillingly, however, I believe, for he wanted very much to go into the Mint. Now, no more at present from your loving and much hurried sister, (for I’m in the middle of packing), Hetty.”
Now, while Bob Frog was in the act of putting Hetty’s letter in his pocket, a little boy was seen on horseback, galloping up to the door.
He brought a telegram addressed to “Mr Robert Frog.” It was from Montreal, and ran thus: “We have arrived, and leave this on Tuesday forenoon.”
“Why, they’re almost here now,” cried Bob.
“Harness up, my boy, and off you go—not a moment to lose!” cried Mr Merryboy, as Bob dashed out of the room. “Take the bays, Bob,” he added in a stentorian voice, thrusting his head out of the window, “and the biggest wagon. Don’t forget the rugs!”
Ten minutes later, and Bob Frog, with Tim Lumpy beside him, was driving the spanking pair of bays to the railway station.