a little ways?"

"I don't know as my mother'd like to have me do that."

"Oh yes, she would; she won't care. Come along! I'll get my hat."

Hannah Maria dashed over the sheet into the entry and got her hat off
the peg; then she and Mehitable started. They strolled up the country
road. Mehitable trundled her doll-carriage carefully; once in a while
she looked in to see if the doll was all right.

"Isn't that carriage kind of heavy for you to drag all alone?" inquired
Hannah Maria.

"No; it isn't very heavy."

"I had just as lief help you drag it as not."

Hannah Maria reached down and took hold by one side of the handle of the
doll-carriage, and the two girls trundled it together.

There were no houses for a long way. The road stretched between
pasture-lands and apple-orchards. There was one very fine orchard on
both sides of the street a quarter of a mile below Hannah Maria's house.
The trees were so heavily loaded with green apples that the branches
hung low over the stone walls. Now and then there was among them a tree
full of ripe yellow apples.

"Don't you like early apples?" asked Hannah Maria.

Mehitable nodded.

"Had any?"

"No."

"They don't grow in your field, do they?"

Mehitable shook her head. "Mother makes pies with our apples, but
they're not mellow 'nough to eat now," she replied.

"Well," said Hannah Maria, "we haven't got any. All our apples are
baldwins and greenin's. I havn't had an early apple this summer."

The two went on, trundling the doll-carriage. Suddenly Hannah Maria
stopped.

"Look here," said she; "my aunt Jenny and my uncle Timothy have got lots
of early apples. You just go along this road a little farther, and you
get to the road that leads to their house. S'pose we go."

"How far is it?"

"Oh, not very far. Father walks over sometimes."

"I don't believe my mother would like it."

"Oh yes, she would! Come along."

But all Hannah Maria's entreaties could not stir Mehitable Lamb. When
they reached the road that led to Uncle Timothy's house she stood still.

"My mother won't like it," said she.

"Yes, she will."

Mehitable stood as if she and the doll-carriage were anchored to the
road.

"I think you're real mean, Mehitable Lamb," said Hannah Maria. "You're a
terrible 'fraid cat. I'm goin', anyhow, and I won't bring you a single
apple; so there!"

"Don't want any," returned Mehitable, with some spirit. She turned the
doll-carriage around. Hannah Maria wa