Page:The children in the little old red house (IA childreninlittle00doug).pdf/16

2 It was a story-and-a-half house, with the gable-end to the street. There was a door in the middle, with a window on either side, and one in the gable above. There was a large flat stone for a stoop, just a step down from the door-sill, and it left not much more than a comfortable sidewalk. A grand old cherry-tree shaded it, and there was a bed of bright yellow marigolds.

But what made the man halt so suddenly was a group of children huddled together, crying and wailing and rocking to and fro, and from the noise you would have said there were at least a dozen.

He jumped from his light wagon, just said, “Whoa, Bonnie, old girl,” and walked up to them with a face of sympathy.

“Children, what is the matter?”

They huddled closer until their heads looked like a cushion.

“What is the matter?” and now the expression was anxiety.

They were a tousled group and not over clean, and they looked up in a rather wild fashion. Then with one voice in a most heartrending tone:

“Oh, our mother’s gone away and left us all alone!”

“All alone!” He gave a mirthful laugh.