All our apples are
baldwins and greenin's. I havn't had an early apple this summer."
The two went on, trundling the doll-carriage. Suddenly Hannah Maria
stopped.
"Look here," said she; "my aunt Jenny and my uncle Timothy have got lots
of early apples. You just go along this road a little farther, and you
get to the road that leads to their house. S'pose we go."
"How far is it?"
"Oh, not very far. Father walks over sometimes."
"I don't believe my mother would like it."
"Oh yes, she would! Come along."
But all Hannah Maria's entreaties could not stir Mehitable Lamb. When
they reached the road that led to Uncle Timothy's house she stood still.
"My mother won't like it," said she.
"Yes, she will."
Mehitable stood as if she and the doll-carriage were anchored to the
road.
"I think you're real mean, Mehitable Lamb," said Hannah Maria. "You're a
terrible 'fraid cat. I'm goin', anyhow, and I won't bring you a single
apple; so there!"
"Don't want any," returned Mehitable, with some spirit. She turned the
doll-carriage around. Hannah Maria walked up the road a few steps.
Suddenly she faced about. Mehitable had already started homeward.
"Mehitable Lamb!" said she.
Mehitable looked around.
"I s'pose you'll go right straight home and tell my mother just as quick
as you can get there."
Mehitable said nothing.
"You'll be an awful telltale if you do.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191