Aunt Corinne drew back into a rigid attitude. "I don't believe it!"she said.
Robert Day passed over her incredulity with a flickering smile.
"People don't have pigs' heads on them!" argued aunt Corinne. "Didhe grunt?"
"And he had a tush stickin' out from his lower jaw," added Robert.
They gazed at each other in silent horror. While this awfulpantomime was going on, the flap of Grandma Padgett's tent waslifted, and a voice of command, expressing besides astonishment andalarm, startled their ears with--
"Children!"
Aunt Corinne leaped up and turned at bay, half-expecting to find theman with the pig's head gnashing at her ear. But what she saw in thesinking light was a fine old head in a night-cap, staring at themfrom the tent. Bobaday and his aunt were so rapid in retiring thattheir guardian was unable to make them explain their conduct as fullyas she desired. They slept so long in the morning that the camp wasbroken up when Grandma Padgett called them out to breakfast.
THE VIRGINIAN AND HIS CHILDREN.]
Zene wanted the tent of aunt Corinne to stretch over the wagon-hoops.He had already hitched the horses, restoring the gray and the white totheir former condition of yoke-fellows, and these two rubbed nosesaffectionately and had almost as much to whisper to each other as hadRobert and Corinne over their breakfast.
The darkened wagon was nowhere to be seen. Corinne climbed a tallstump as an observatory, and Bobaday went a piece into the bushes,only to find that all that end of the camp was gone. The colony ofVirginians was also partly under way.
Aunt Corinne felt a certain sadness steal over her. She had broughtherself to admit the pig-headed man, with limitations. He might havea pig's head on him, but it wasn't fast. He did it to frightenchildren. She had fully intended to see him and be frightened by himat any cost. Now he was gone like a bad dream in the night. And sheshould not know if the little girl was stolen. She could only revengeherself on Robert Day for having seen into that darkened wagon, withthe stove-pipe sticking out when she had not, by sniffing doubtfullyat every mysterious allusion to it. They did not mention thepigheaded man to Grandma Padgett, though both longed to know if sucha specimen of natural history had ever come under her eyes. She wouldhave questioned then about the walk that led to this discovery. Herprejudices against children's prowling away from their elders afterdark were very strong.
Aunt Corinne thought the pig-headed man might have come to theircarriage when they were ready to start, instead of the Virginian.
"Right along the pike?" he inquired cheerfully.
"I believe so," said Grandma Padgett.
"You'll be in our company then as far as you go. It'll be better foryou to keep in a big company."
"It will indeed," said Grandma Padgett sincerely.
"Oh, you'll keep along to Californy," said the Virginian.
"To the Illinois line," amended Grandma Padgett, at which helaughed, adding:
"Well, we'll neighbor for a while, anyhow."
"Let your little boy and girl ride in our carriage," begged RobertDay, seizing on this relief from monotony.
"Yes do," said his grandmother, turning her glasses upon the littleboy and girl. Aunt Corinne had been inspecting them as they stood attheir father's heels, and bestowing experimental smiles on them. Theboy was a clear brown-eyed fellow with butternut trousers up to hisarm-pits, and a wool hat all out of shape. The little girl lookedred-faced and precise, the color from her lips having evidently becomediluted through her skin. Over a linsey petticoat she wore a calicobelted apron. The belt was as broad as the length of aunt Corinne'shand, for in the course of the morning aunt Corinne furtivelymeasured it. Although it was June weather, this little girl also worestout shoes and yarn stockings.
"Well, they might get in if they won't crowd you," assented theirfather. "You're all to take dinner with us, my wife says."
The children were hoisted up the steps, which they climbed withagile feet, as if accustomed to scaling high cart wheels. Bobaday satby his grandmother, and the back seat received this addition to theparty without at all crowding aunt Corinne. She looked the boy andgirl over with great satisfaction. They were near her own age.
"Do you play teeter in the woods?" she inquired with a fidget, byway of opening the conversation.
The boy rolled his eyes towards her and replied in a slow drawl,sometimes they did.
Robert Day then put it to him whether he liked moving.
"I like to ride the leaders for fawther," replied the boy.
"What's your name?" inquired aunt Corinne, directing her inquiry toboth.
The little girl turned redder, answering in a broad drawl like herbrother, "His name's Jonathan and mine's Clar'sy Ellen."
Aunt Corinne looked down at the hind wheel revolving at her side ofthe carriage, and her lips unconsciously moved in meditation.
"Thrusty Ellen!" she repeated aloud.
"Clar'sy Ellen," corrected the little girl, her broad drawl stillconfusing the sound.
Aunt Corinne's lips continued to move. She whispered to the hindwheel, "Mercy! If I was named Jonathan and Thrusty Ellen, I'd wish myfolks'd forgot to name me at all!"