He merely snarled at Kate, and even Joan's tugging at his ears could not budge him.

He stood canting his head and watching them wistfully while Kate changed Joan's clothes.
She dressed her as if for a festival, with a blue bonnet that let the yellow hair curl out from the edges, and a little blue cloak, and shiny boots incredibly small, and around the bonnet she laid a wreath of yellow wild flowers.

Then she wrote her letter, closed it in an envelope, and fastened it securely in the pocket of the cloak.
She drew Joan in front of her and held her by both hands.
"Joan, darling," she said, "munner wants you to go with Bart up through the mountains.

Will you be afraid ?" A very decided shake of the head answered her, for Joan's eyes were already over her shoulder looking towards the big dog.

And she was a little sullen at these unnecessary words.
"It might grow dark," she said.