"
Seldom have I been so roused by a letter as I was by this one, and
never did I promise myself more genuine pleasure in writing a
reply. I determined that it should be a masterpiece of analysis
and of calm yet forcible expression of opinion.
Upon one step, at any rate, I was positively determined. Calling
the girl, I asked her where the key was that locked the door
between my room and the children.
"Please, sir, Toddie threw it down the well."
"Is there a locksmith in the village?"
"No, sir; the nearest one is at Paterson."
"Is there a screwdriver in the house?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bring it to me, and tell the coachman to get ready at once to
drive me to Paterson."
The screwdriver was brought, and with it I removed the lock, got
into the carriage, and told the driver to take me to Paterson by
the hill-road--one of the most beautiful roads in America.
"Paterson!" exclaimed Budge. "Oh, there's a candy-store in that
town, come on, Toddie."
"Will you?" thought I, snatching the whip and giving the horses a
cut. "Not if _I_ can help it. The idea of having such a drive
spoiled by the clatter of SUCH a couple!"
Away went the horses, and up rose a piercing shriek and a terrible
roar. It seemed that both children must have been mortally hurt,
and I looked out hastily, only to see Budge and Toddie running
after the carriage, and crying pitifully.
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