It was Mrs. Hobbs calling. Mary-'Gusta hurriedly untwisted her legs
and scrambled from beneath the dust cover of the surrey. David, whose
slumbers were disturbed, rose also, yawned and stretched.

"Here I be, Mrs. Hobbs," answered the girl. "I'm a-comin'."

Mrs. Hobbs was standing in the doorway of the barn. Mary-'Gusta noticed
that she was not, as usual, garbed in gingham, but was arrayed in her
best go-to-meeting gown.

"I'm a-comin'," said the child.

"Comin', yes. But where on earth have you been? I've been hunting all
over creation for you. I didn't suppose you'd be out here, on this day
of all others, with--with that critter," indicating David, who appeared,
blinking sleepily.

"I must say I shouldn't think you'd be fussin' along with a cat today,"
declared Mrs. Hobbs.

"Yes'm," said Mary-'Gusta. David yawned, apparently expressing a bored
contempt for housekeepers in general.

"Come right along into the house," continued Mrs. Hobbs. "It's high time
you was gettin' ready for the funeral."

"Ready? How?" queried Mary-'Gusta.

"Why, changin' your clothes, of course."