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"Miss Rose was to come in directly."
"All right; we'll bring her!" answered Archie, issuing some
mysterious order, which was so promptly obeyed that, before Rose
could get out of the carriage, the boys had caught hold of the pole
and rattled her out of the barn, round the oval and up to the front
door with a cheer that brought two caps to an upper window, and
caused Debby to cry aloud from the back porch
"Them harum-scarum boys will certainly be the death of that
delicate little creter!"
But the "delicate little creter" seemed all the better for her trip, and
ran up the steps looking rosy, gay, and dishevelled, to be received
with lamentation by Aunt Plenty, who begged her to go and lie
down at once.
"Oh, please don't! We have come to tea with our cousin, and we'll
be as good as gold if you'll let us stay, auntie," clamoured the boys,
who not only approved of "our cousin" but had no mind to lose
their tea, for Aunt Plenty's name but feebly expressed her bountiful
"Well, dears, you can; only be quiet, and let Rose go and take her
iron and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for
supper," said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley
of directions for the approaching feast.
"Marmalade for me, auntie."
"Plenty of plum-cake, please."
"Tell Debby to trot out the baked pears."
"I'm your man for lemon-pie, ma'am."
"Do have fritters; Rose will like 'em."
"She'd rather have tarts, I know."
When Rose came down, fifteen minutes later, with every curl
smoothed and her most beruffled apron on, she found the boys
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