keep coming in her throat, when she thought of Mother standing beside
the train and waving her handkerchief as it moved away.

Although Joyce was only twelve herself, she really began to feel quite
like a mother to eight-year-old Don. She must try to help him forget his
loneliness. Soon they were looking out the window; and what interesting
sights were whirling past! First there was a big flock of chickens; then
some calves in a meadow, running away from the train in a great fright.
A flock of sheep with their little lambs frolicked on a green hillside;
and a frisky colt kicked up its heels and darted across the pasture as
the train went by.

By and by, in her most grown-up way, Joyce looked at the watch on her
wrist. It was just noon, so she opened the lunch-box; and dainty sandwiches
and fruit soon disappeared. But they saved two big slices of Mother's
good cake--to take to Grandma and Grandpa.

After lunch, the train seemed to creep along rather slowly. But at last
it stopped at the station where Grandma had promised to meet them. And
sure enough, there stood Grandpa with his snowy hair and his big broad
smile. Grandma was waiting nearby in the car.

It was late afternoon when they reached the old farmhouse, and Grandma
soon had supper ready. After supper, Joyce helped to clear away the
dishes; and then the little trunk was unpacked.

Grandma was watching keenly, to see if the children were lonely. "Now,"
she said briskly, "it is milking time. Run down the lane, children, and
let the bars down for the cows to come through the lot; and we will give
them a good drink of water."