And while all this fun was going on, Elbert's mother was running wildly through the four rooms of her little house, calling her boy's name, and feeling sure that the children were either killed and thrown into the cistern, or else carried off like Charley Ross, and lost forever. The scattered pillows and upset rocking-chair, indeed, made the kitchen appear as if there had been a struggle, and the wide-open door and the gate creaking to and fro had a dreadful look to Elbert's mother. Just then the women whom Elbert had met stopped at the gate, and said to the mother, who was coming hurriedly out, "Is anything the matter, Mrs. Collins?"
"Oh, I don't know where my children are! I left them while I ran into Mrs. Brown's a minute, and the kitchen's all upset, and I'm afraid—"
"Why, we just now met Elbert with the baby, kiting along like the wind, over there by Webster & Green's. Leastways we supposed it was the baby, from the way he carried it. And he never—"
"Merciful man! he's taken her to school!"
About ten minutes later, a flustered little woman rapped at the door of the First Primary Room, and inquired for a baby. It was handed to her, along with an empty milk bottle, and wrapping them both in a red cloak which she carried, she thanked the smiling teacher, and walked quickly home.
At first she had felt very angry toward Elbert; but when she looked at the clock, and remembered his horror of being late, she softened toward him considerably, and by the time she had got the baby home, and found her none the worse for her little run away, she had her laugh also; and being a fair-minded woman, she told Elbert when he came home to dinner that it was very thoughtless in her to have staid so long at Mrs. Brown's. And Elbert gave her a hug, and said he was "glad he didn't leave the baby, 'cause she might have been burned up, you know!"