Aunt Jo’s Scrap-Bag Vol. 1

'Don't ask questions,' was all the answer he got.

Old Bill was put into the best buggy and driven to the hall door. Papa
followed, and mamma sprang up from her nap, ready for her afternoon
drive.

'Can't I go?' she asked, as Kitty came down in her new hat and gloves.

'No; there isn't room.'

'Why not have the carryall, and let us go, too, we like it so much,'
said papa, in the pleading tone Harry often used.

Kitty was about to consent, for she loved mamma, and found it hard to
cross her so. But Harry was made of sterner stuff; his wrongs still
burned within him, and he said impatiently--

'We can't be troubled with you. The buggy is nicest and lightest, and we
want to talk over our affairs. You, my son, can help John turn the hay
on the lawn, and Caroline can amuse baby, or help Jane with the
preserves. Little girls should be domestic.'

'Oh, thunder!' growled papa.

'Aunt Betsey taught you that speech, you saucy boy,' cried mamma, as the
children drove off in high glee, leaving their parents to the
distasteful tasks set them.

Mrs. Fairbairn wanted to read, but baby was fretful, and there was no
Kitty to turn him over to, so she spent her afternoon amusing the small