22 The Old Umbrella.

 

‘Father,’ said littlke May, coming
forward, ‘don’t you be too sorry;
it’s all of God’s sending, isn’t it?
You always tells me so. Let Johnny
and me go up. We can quite well
now, I’m sure; for we’re bigger than
what we were; and we'll be back
by dinner-time, and tell you all
about it. We won’t get playing on
the road, I promise you that we
won't; do let us go, father.’

‘What, all alone! Two scraps
like you—a good three-quarters of a
mile, and along a lonesome sort of a
way!’ And he looked at his wife,
saying, ‘I never heard of such a
thing ; did you, mother

‘Oh, yes; I know yow have,