But, alas! you only see that old hay-wagon, which I am sure
would fall to pieces if horses attempted to pull it, and that affair
with two big wheels and a top. I think they call it a gig, and I believe
old Mr. Butterwood used to drive about in it."
"Indeed he did," said Dora. "I remember seeing him when I was a little
girl. It must be very comfortable. I should think your sister and you
would enjoy driving in that. In a gig, you know, you can go
anywhere--into wood-roads, and all sorts of places where you couldn't
turn around with anything with four wheels. And how nice it is that it
has a top. I've heard it said that Mr. Butterwood would always have
everything comfortable for himself. Perhaps your sister is in some of
these smaller rooms. What are they?"
"Oh, harness rooms, and I know not what," answered Ralph, and then he
called out:--
"Miriam!" His voice was of a full, rich tone, and it was echoed from the
bare walls and floors.
"If my sister is in the barn at all," said Ralph, "I think she must be on
the floor above this, for there is the hay, and the hens' nests, if there
are any--"
"Oh, let us go up there," said Dora; "that is just where we ought to
find her.
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