ne cry, more like the
yelp of a trodden animal than a child's voice. Then she took the open
umbrella and sped away. The umbrella bobbed wildly--nothing could be
seen of poor little Dan'l but her small, speeding feet. She wailed
loudly all the way.

She was half-way home when, plodding along in a cloud of brown dust, a
horse appeared in the road. The horse wore a straw bonnet and advanced
very slowly. He drew a buggy, and in the buggy were Dr. Trumbull and
Johnny, his son. He had called at Daniel's to see the little girl, and,
on being told that they had gone to walk, had said something under his
breath and turned his horse's head down the road.

"When we meet them, you must get out, Johnny," he said, "and I will take
in that poor old man and that baby. I wish I could put common sense in
every bottle of medicine. A day like this!"

Dr. Trumbull exclaimed when he saw the great bobbing black umbrella and
heard the wails. The straw-bonneted horse stopped abruptly. Dr. Trumbull
leaned out of the buggy. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Uncle Dan'l is gone," shrieked the child.

"Gone where? What do you mean?"

"He--tumbled right down, and then he was-somebody else. He ain't there."

"Where is 'there'? Speak up quick!"

"The brook--Uncle Dan'l went away at the brook."

Dr. Trumbull acted swiftly. He gave Johnny a push. "Get out," he said.
"Take that baby into Jim Mann's house there, and tell Mrs. Mann to keep
her in the shade and look out for her, and you tell Jim, if he hasn't
got his horse in his farm-wagon, to look lively and harness her in and
put all the ice they've got in the house in the wagon. Hurry!"

Johnny was over the wheel before his father had finished speaking, and
Jim Mann just then drew up alongside in his farm-wagon.

"What's to pay?" he inquired, breathless. He was a thin, sinewy man,
scantily clad in cotton trousers and a shirt wide open at the breast.
Green leaves protruded from under the brim of his tilted straw hat.

"Old Daniel Wise is overcome by the heat," answered Dr. Trumbull. "Put
all the ice you have in the house in your wagon, and come along. I'll
leave my horse and buggy here. Your horse is faster."

Presently the farm-wagon clattered down the road, dust-hidden behind a
galloping horse. Mrs. Jim Mann, who was a loving mother of children,
was soothing little Dan'l. Johnny Trumbull watched at the gate. When the
wagon returned he ran out and hung on behind, while the strong, ungainly
fa