Besides, we both thought that we would prefer that our ex-boarder and his wife should not know that we were encamped on that little peninsula.
We set to work to pack up and get ready for moving, but the afternoon passed away without bringing old John.

Between five and six o'clock along came his oldest boy, with a bucket of water.
"I'm to go back after the milk," he said.
"Hold up!" I cried.

"Where is your father and his wagon?
We've been waiting for him for hours." "The horse is si---- I mean he's gone to Ballville for oats." "And why didn't he send and tell me ?" I asked.
"There wasn't nobody to send," answered the boy.
"You are not telling the truth," exclaimed Euphemia; "there is always some one to send, in a family like yours." To this the boy made no answer, but again said that he would go after the milk.
"We want you to bring no milk," I cried, now quite angry.

"I want you to go down to the station, and tell the driver of the express-wagon to come here immediately.

Do you understand?
Immediately." The boy declared he understood, and started off quite willingly.