Everybody was in church,—everybody but Merrimeg. Her mother had let her stay at home as a reward, because she had done her sweeping so neatly.
The house was empty, and there was not a soul in the village street.
Merrimeg was sitting at the front window, looking at pictures in a book and telling herself stories about them. Sometimes she would gaze out of the open window at the sunshine.
After a while she stopped talking to herself, and looked up and listened. She was sure that she heard a sound in the street. It was a kind of clop-clop! and it seemed to be coming nearer. She peeped around the corner of the window and looked out.
Two pairs of wooden shoes, quite small, were coming down the street side by side, towards her house. Each pair of wooden shoes was walking along in the usual way, but the astonishing thing was that there were no feet in them. There was nobody at all in them. They were walking along all by themselves.
Merrimeg opened her eyes wide. She had never seen such a sight as that before. Clop-clop! went the wooden shoes on the hard ground, just as if two people were stepping down the street. But no, there was nothing anywhere in the street but those two pairs of shoes, coming along clop-clop!
Merrimeg held her breath and watched to see the shoes go by her window. Clop-clop! they came, sounding plainer and plainer; clop-clop! right up to the door of her house; and when they came to the door, there they stopped.
Merrimeg drew her head back a little, getting ready to run if she had to, but she watched them with both eyes.
“I think this is a house,” said a voice.
“I believe it is, brother, I believe it is,” said another voice.