but finding time, during the busy summer months, to flush its fertile
banks with beauty.

Suddenly (a word that could seldom be truthfully applied to the
description of Jabe Slocum's movements) the reins were ruthlessly drawn
from Lady Gay's hands and wound about the whipstock.

"Gorry!" ejaculated Mr. Slocum, "ef I hain't left the widder Foss
settin' on Aunt Hitty's hoss-block, 'n' I promised to pick her up when I
come along back! That all comes o' my drivin' by the store so fast on
account o' the boys hectorin' of me, so 't when I got to the turn I was
so kind of het up I jogged right along the straight road. Haste makes
waste 's an awful good motto. Pile out, young ones! It's only half a
mile from here to the Falls, 'n' you'll have to get there on Shank's
mare!"

So saying, he dumped the astonished children into the middle of the
road, from whence he had plucked them, turned the docile mare, and with
a "Git, Mariar!" went four miles back to relieve Aunt Hitty's
horse-block from the weight of the widder Foss (which was no joke!).

This turn of affairs was most unexpected, and Gay seemed on the point of
tears; but Timothy gathered her a handful of wild flowers, wiped the
dust from her face, put on the clean blue gingham apron, and established
her in the basket, where she soon fell asleep, wearied by the
excitements of the day.

Timothy's heart began to be a little troubled as he walked on and on
through the leafy woods, trundling the basket behind him. Nothing had