“Is that so?” said Grandfather with interest. “Now I shouldn’t have thought of calling you that. But I might have called you ‘Pint o’ Peanuts’ if any one had asked me.”
Phil and Susan went off into a fit of laughter at this funny name, and when they recovered Grandfather remarked gravely:
“The best thing to do in a case like this is to build up an appetite. Susan, you go with Philip up to his house and ask his mother if she will let him take a little drive with Parson Drew and you and me over to Green Valley. Be sure to tell her it’s to work up an appetite. Then cut across and tell Grandmother we are going to the Green Valley Court-House and that we shall be home by five o’clock.”
Grandfather was forced to stand on the doorstep and call the last part of his directions after Susan. For at the first mention of a drive she had caught Phil’s hand and started on a run up the driveway leading to his house.
Mrs. Vane hastily polished off her son with a corner of the kitchen roller towel, snuggled him into a warm sweater, and sent word to Grandfather that she was very glad to have Philip go driving, though he didn’t need to work up an appetite she was sure.
Grandmother made Susan hunt for her straw hat which, strange to say, was not to be found upon its accustomed nail. Grandmother and Phil searched downstairs, while Susan ran about frantically upstairs, so afraid they would be late that she could only half look. But at last she discovered her hat upside down under the bed, with rubber Snowball taking a nap in it, just as Susan had put her to bed the day before.
In spite of this delay the children were in good time, and with Susan wedged tightly on the seat between Grandfather and the minister, and Phil standing between the great leather boots with either hand on Grandfather’s knee, they drove off in fine style.
Mr. Drew was the village minister, a young man with a pleasant manner and a twinkle in his kind blue eyes. He and Grandfather were special friends. They liked to talk together, though they rarely agreed, and sometimes became so excited in their talk that you might almost think they were quarreling. But of course Susan knew better than that.
Grandfather’s horse, big bony Nero, had hurt his knee and had been turned out to grass to rest and recover. So this afternoon Mr. Drew held the reins and chirruped gently to his little brown Molly as she carried them briskly along the road.