stable. The horses were watered--Robert wading to his neck among
cherry sprouts to a curb well, and unhooking the heavy bucket from
its chain, after a search for something else available. Then leaving
the poor creatures to browse as best they could, the party prepared
to move upon the house. Aunt Corinne came out of the wet carriage.

Grandma Padgett picked up some sticks and chips. They attempted to
unlock the door; but the lock was broken. "Anybody can go in!"
remarked the head of the party. "But I don't know that we can even
build a fire, and as to provisions, I s'pose we'll have to starve
this night."

But stumbling into a dark front room, and feeling hopelessly along
the mantel, they actually found matches. The tenth one struck flame.

There were ashes and black brands in the fireplace, left there possibly,
by the landlord's last moofer. Grandma Padgett built a fire to which the
children huddled, casting fearful glances up the damp-stained walls.
The flame was something like a welcome.

"Perhaps," said Grandma with energy, "there are even provisions in
the house. I wouldn't grudge payin' that man a good price and cookin'
them myself, if I could give you something to eat."

"We can look," suggested Bobaday. "They'd be in the cellar, wouldn't
they?"

"It's lots lonesomer than our house was the morning we came away,"
chattered aunt Corinne, warming her long hands at the blaze.