The horse had stopped now, Jumping Jack jerked himself up to the astonished dog, and said, very severely: "Spot, aint you ashamed to worry anything that belongs to our Scrubby? I'll put you out if there's any more of it."
"It's too bad, so it is," said Peg.
Lyd began to cry with her one eye, while Ned stopped laughing and went to scolding; the chicken put his claw before his face, as if ashamed of such a dog, and even the horse shook his head.
Poor Spot was under a cloud.
"I didn't know it was anything Scrubby cared for, and I don't believe it is, either," he snapped.
"I saw Scrubby write it," said Minx, "and she stuck the pencil in my ear when she'd finished."
"She was sitting on us when she wrote it," said Peg and Lyd together.
"Yes, and she held me on her lap and read it to me when it was done," put in Française.
"Of course it's her letter," spoke up the rocking-horse. "Don't you remember, Fran, she hitched it to my bridle and told you to ride right off and give it to old Kriss when he came around?"
"You're a nice crowd!" growled Spot. "Every one of you knew all about this, and left it kicking around on the floor! You are a nice crowd! I'll take charge of it myself now, and see that old Kriss gets it. He can't read it, of course. Nobody could read that; but it shows how much you all think of Scrubby."