“Come, come, Fred, you’ll be wet through!”
“Fred looked about him in amazement. He was sitting on the piazza, and there was Mischief in his lap. She was shaking off the rain-drops as they fell thickly upon her soft fur, and was struggling to get away from his hand, which was tightly clasped about one of her fore-paws. His other hand was held by his mother, who stood over him, laughing and talking at the same time. ‘Why, Fred, have you been here all the afternoon? I guess the kitten has had a nice nap; and just see how it rains!’
“‘Mischief,’ began Fred solemnly, letting go her paw, ‘what have you been—?’ but Mischief had already jumped and run off to the barn, to find her brothers and sisters.”
CHAPTER VII.
OAK LEAVES AND HAY.
HOW it did pour that afternoon! It was of no use to think of going into the woods for leaves, and the girls had just about given up all idea of decorating Pet’s room, when the kitchen window was obscured by a queer object.
Kittie came flying out from the sitting-room, closely followed by the rest.
“What can it be?” she cried. “O, I know! It’s Ruel—just see what he’s brought!”
Sure enough, the kindly trapper, who loved the young folks almost as if they were his own children, had tramped off quietly to the wood, gathered a huge armful of green oak boughs—and now stood, beaming out of the midst of them, like a good-natured Faun, fairly dripping from head to foot.
“I thought you mout like to be workin’ while your uncle was tellin’ stories,” he called out. “Where’ll you have em?”
“O, in the barn, the barn. We’ve been cooped up in the house all day, and I’m just longing for a breath of fresh air.”