Instantly there was a laugh from somewhere underneath, then a scramble that continued until at last grandmother Ruth emerged without aid of any sort and stood up, a good deal rumpled and covered with hay but laughing.
"It didn't hurt me a mite!" she protested.

"I came down light as a feather!" "But why didn't you answer when we called to you ?" the elder exclaimed reprovingly.

"You kept so still we were scared half to death about you!" "Oh, I just wanted to see what you would all do," she replied airily and still laughing.

"I was a little afraid you would stick your forks into the hay, but I was watching for that." The old Squire was so relieved, so overjoyed, to see her on her feet unhurt that he had not a word of reproach for her.

All he said was, "Ruth Ann, I'm afraid you are growing too young for your age!" The truth is that grandmother Ruth was dreadfully chagrined that the load she had laid had not held together as far as the barn; and it was partly mortification, I think, that led her to lie so still under the hay.
She wanted to remount the cart and have the hay pitched up to her; but as it was getting late in the afternoon, and as there was no ladder at hand, Jim and Asa hoisted Addison up, and he succeeded in rebuilding the load so that we were able to take it into the barn without further incident.
We could hardly believe that the fall had not injured grandmother Ruth, and as a matter of fact Theodora afterwards told us that she had several large black-and-blue spots as a result of her adventure.