Our hostess met us at the gate and the look of her face when she bade us goodbye and tucked some cookies into my pocket, has always lingered in my memory and put in me a mighty respect for all women.

The sound of her voice, the tears, the waving of her handkerchief, as we went away, are among the things that have made me what I am.
We stowed our packages in the wagon box and I walked a few miles and then got into the empty basket.

Fred tipped his load over once or twice, but got a steady gait in the way of industry after a while and a more cheerful look.

We had our dinner by the roadside on the bank of a brook, an hour or so after midday, and came to a little village about sundown.
As we were nearing it there was some excitement among the dogs and one of them tackled Fred.

He went into battle very promptly, the wagon jumping and rattling until it turned bottom up.