This was so droll, that everybody laughed. By and by the Quaker told Mrs. Pitcher he had come to Rosewood to take home a new “chaise,” and he had just happened to think that this would be a good time for the twins to pay him a visit. He could take them as well as not, and his wife Liddy was sure to be glad to see them.
Pollio began to turn a somerset, but caught himself by the hair, and changed it into a dance. Posy was quite as eager, but did not dance with any thing but her eyes.
“Wait a moment,” said their mamma. “Mr. Littlefield is very kind to give this invitation; but the truth is, my poor little Posy has nothing fit to wear. The cow has eaten up her two best dresses.”
The Quaker looked surprised, as well he might. He knew that toads eat their own clothes, but he had never heard that any animals eat little girls’ dresses.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Pitcher, “our new cow strayed into the clothes-yard last Monday, and chewed up some of the fine clothes lying in a tub. We would not have bought such a strange cow if we had known her habits.”
“O mamma!” pleaded Posy in a whisper. “Don’t you s’pose the lady would ’scuse it? My other dresses are not very homely,—not so homely as Hop-clover’s.”
“Hop-clover!” exclaimed Pollio aloud. “Why, when the cow has chewed Posy’s things all up, they look better’n Hop-clover’s. Hop-clover’s things are all rags.”
“Is Hop-clover the cow?” asked the Quaker.
“Oh, no, sir! It’s a little girl. And that isn’t her name, either. Her name is—What is her name, mamma?”