"Don't you think he oughter see them nelephants and things?" asked
Eliza doubtfully, her loyalty to Teether warring with the relief of
having him out of her thin little arms for the journey.

"He won't mind. Let me keep him here on the front porch until you
come back. Now run along and have a good time," and Miss Wingate
started up the front walk, as Eliza darted away to join the others.

"I do declare," said Mother Mayberry, as she watched the expedition
wend its way down the white Road in the direction of the Bolivar
pike, "the way the Deacon do love the children is plumb beautiful,
and sad some too. I don't know what he would do without Jem or they
without him. Seeing 'em together reminds me of that scraggy, old
snowball bush in full bloom, leaning down to the little Stars of
Bethlehem reaching up to it. What that good man have been to me only
my Heavenly Father can know and Tom Mayberry suspicion. I tell you
what I think I'll do; I'll take one of them little pans of rolls
what Cindy have baked for supper, with a jar of peach preserves, and
go down and set with Mis' Bostick while the Deacon are gone. We can
run the pan of rolls in to get hot for him when he comes home and I
know he likes the preserves. I want to stop in to see Mis' Tutt too
and give her a little advice about that taking so much blue-mass. I
don't see how anybody with a bad liver can have any religion at all,
much less a second blessing. I know the Squire have his faults, but
others has failings too. And, too, I'll have to stop in and pacify
Miss Prissy about turning the children loose, before I go down the
Road."

"Miss Prissy always seems to be getting the children into trouble. I