overtook Tom, who had a boy seated on his
empty drag.

"Is that your Jerry, that you told me about?" Bertie asked, stopping his
donkey.

"Yes, it's my Jerry."

"Will he be over there this afternoon?" pointing to Woodlawn.

"I think it's likely."

"I'm going to be there then. Papa is going to show me what a trench is;
and if your boy would like it, I'll give him a ride in my donkey
carriage."

Jerry's face fairly shone with delight. His father had told him about
Whitefoot; and he hoped he should see the funny looking creature; but to
take a ride in the little carriage, was more than he had ever dreamed
of.

"Thank you, Master Bertie. I expect Jerry would be tickled enough; but
'tisn't just the thing for you to be carrying the likes of him."

"You've carried me on your drag," Herbert answered, laughing. "Mamma
says when anybody does us a kindness, we ought to try and return it.
I'll be there right after dinner."

When they drove up to the farm, mamma was looking from the window
watching for them. She told Bertie to come up to her with his sister,
for Nancy was busy on the back porch washing out some clothes for her
little charge.

Winnie's lunch of bread and milk was all ready for her; but she was so
sleepy she could scarcely keep awake to eat it; and when mamma had laid
her on her crib, she was asleep in a minute.

Bertie ran out to the barn to put his donkey up, and then listened to
mamma's story for the rest of the forenoon.

CHAPTER XII.

THE CROSS WORKMAN.

It was Mr. Curtis' intention to have two avenues to his house. One of
them wound around by the lake past the spot which he had marked out for
a boat-house, and then through the chestnut grove, where it met the
other avenue.

The other or main avenue, entered the grounds just between two immense
elm-trees which almost seemed to have been stationed there for guards,
so exactly did they suit their position. Underneath the branches which
met and embraced, the handsome granite posts with a heavy iron gate,
were to mark the main entrance to Woodlawn. The wall which was to
enclose the grounds was to be built of gray pudding-stone, tightly
cemented, with a hewn granite curb-stone. The road, which was to be
nicely trenched and gravelled, wound through a variety of shade-trees to
the highest point of land, where the view of the house, lawn and lake
burst upon the eye of the visitor.

When Mr. Curtis was, in after years, complimented by his fr