Mrs. Adams laughed too.
"I didn't really think you would carry out your plan for very
long," she said. "Polly takes Aunt Jane's words too seriously. In
old times, everybody read 'Pilgrim's Progress,' but it's going out
of fashion now, and--Whoa, Job! What are you doing?" she
exclaimed, as the carriage tilted to one side so unexpectedly that
Florence and Molly screamed a little.
Job, grieved at finding himself ignored and left out of the
conversation, had apparently determined to amuse himself in his
own way. He had meandered back and forth across the road, as was
shown by the serpentine character of his tracks; now, catching
sight of a tempting stalk of mullein by the fence, he had walked
across the gutter and was just stretching his head forward to
seize the coveted morsel, when Mrs. Adams interrupted him. Her
first impulse was to draw him back, but kinder feelings prevailed,
and she bent forward to give him the full length of the lines,
saying indulgently,--
"The mischief is done already, Job, so you may as well have your
lunch, for you can't tip us up any farther." And she sat there
quite patiently, in spite of her strained position, until Job had
devoured the mullein in a leisurely fashion.
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