They come in flocks.

I wish I could stop thinkin' about such mou'nful things." A train passed as she cantered through the gate and started down the road beside the railroad track.

She drew rein to watch it thunder by.

Some child at the window pointed a finger at her, and then two smiling little faces were pressed against the pane for an eager glimpse.

It was the prettiest wayside picture the passengers had seen in all that morning's travel--the Little Colonel on her pony, with the spray of locust bloom in the cockade of the Napoleon cap she wore, and a plume of the same graceful blossoms nodding jauntily over each of Tarbaby's black ears.
As the admiring faces whirled past her, Lloyd drew a long breath of relief.