He looked like a little old man, with his long coat and turned up trowsers.

Bud came next in his new suit, but he had lost his hat, and was obliged to wear a handkerchief tied over his ears.

Ivy brought up the rear, continually tripping on her long cloak, and jolting her white toboggan cap down over her eyes at almost every step.
Nuts and persimmons and wild fox-grapes filled the little wagon many times, and made a welcome addition to Mammy's meagre bill of fare.
Late one evening John Jay came running up the path all out of breath.
The yellow candle-light streamed out through the cabin window.

He stopped and looked in, sniffing the air with keen enjoyment, for Mammy was stewing the rabbit he had caught that morning in a snare.
He could see Bud sitting on the floor, with his feet harnessed up as horses.

He was sawing the reins back and forth and remorselessly switching his own legs until they flew up and down in fine style.