"All right! Then I'll give them to Allan."

She continued to take brown loaves from the oven and to put other loaves
in to bake, while he stood awkwardly by, loath to part from her. Allan
came back breathless.

"Grandpa says you can go as far as you like and you needn't come back till
you get ready!"

He shifted from one foot to the other and absently ate a warm cookie from
the jarful at his hand. He thought this seemed not quite the correct
attitude to take toward him, yet he did not waver. They would be sorry
enough in a few days, when it was too late.

"I guess I better take a few of these along with me," he said, stowing
cookies in the pockets of his jacket. He would have liked one of the big
preserved peaches all punctuated with cloves, but he saw no way to carry
it, and felt really unable to eat it on the spot.

"Well, good-bye!" he called to Clytie, turning back to her from the door.

"Good-bye! Won't you shake hands with me?"

Very solemnly he shook her big, floury hand.

"Now--could I take Penny along?" (Penny was an inconsequential dog that
had been given to Clytie by one whom she called Cousin Bill J.)

"Yes, you'll need a dog to keep the animals off. Now be sure you write to