Now Auntie hurries in to the kitchen, to see that the beautiful brown loaves of bread, baking in the oven, are not burning. Zoe departs on her mission; she walks down the road slowly; it is awfully warm. Goodness! she never felt the heat so intense, with such a trot way down ever so far. Ah! here is a brilliant chance for saving herself the weary walk to Mrs. Haley's. Coming down behind is a cart filled with hay, and sitting on top are three little boys in white pinafores, chattering to the old man who holds the reins, and every little while flicks a fly off the horses' backs with the whip he idly dangles.

"Have a ride?" comes in chorus from the load of hay. Without a second invitation, throwing the basket up ahead, Zoe climbs nimbly up; with the able assistance of the three small pinafored gentlemen, she is pulled triumphantly aloft. The heat is great, but it has no visible effect on t. . . Read More