“Bless your little hearts!” she cried, running to meet them, “I have been so worried! what has kept you such a long while?” The children tried to tell all in one breath. “Oh, lots of things,” they answered. “We had to wait to stop a train because a dead cow was on the track,” said Nan.
“And Pet almost choked to death on a peach stone,” added Rex, “and——”
“Oh, wait a moment,” said Sister Julia, putting her fingers to her ears; “I cannot understand a word if you all talk at once.” Mrs. Murray was standing in the doorway; she had felt sure the children would come home all right. “How about the peaches?” she asked as they came up the path, for all this excitement did not make her forget that everything was in readiness for preserving the next day.
“Oh, they'll surely come to-night, the man promised faithfully,” Harry answered. “Hark! I heard a waggon; I guess they're coming now.” Yes, the waggon turned in at the gate, and Mrs. Murray's mind was as much relieved about the peaches as Sister Julia's about the children. The little trio did justice to an ample supper that night, and after an hour's narration of the exciting experiences of the day, they were perfectly willing to desert the open wood fire in the sitting-room for downy pillows and blankets, those comfortable contrivances which waft tired little people into the realm of slumberland.
