Mebbe he'll tell us what to do. Anyway, you lead
him round to the alleyway, and we'll see if we can't get him in the little
ash-gate. You don't suppose he'd try to get in the house, do you? I
shouldn't like him to come in the kitchen when I was getting supper."
"O no!" said Elizabeth. "He's very good. Where is the back yard?"
This arrangement was finally made, and the two women stood in the kitchen
door, watching Robin drink a bucketful of water and eat heartily of the
various viands that Mrs. Brady set forth for him, with the exception of
the excelsior, which he snuffed at in disgust.
"Now, ain't he smart?" said Mrs. Brady, watching fearfully from the
door-step, where she might retreat if the animal showed any tendency to
step nearer to the kitchen. "But don't you think he's cold? Wouldn't he
like a--a--shawl or something?"
The girl drew the old coat from her shoulders, and threw it over him, her
grandmother watching her fearless handling of the horse with pride and
awe.
"We're used to sharing this together," said the girl simply.
"Nan sews in an up-town dressmaker's place," explained Mrs. Brady by and
by, when the wash was hung out in fearsome proximity to the weary horse's
heels, and the two had returned to the warm kitchen to clean up and get
supper. "Nan's your ma's sister, you know, older'n her by two year; and
Lizzie, that's her girl, she's about 's old 's you. She's got a good place
in the ten-cent store.
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