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CHAPTER XIX
MO VING
Twice, that I can remember, Father had
tried to get a position off in the country, and
each time I had been so sure we were going to
move that I had imagined exactly how every-
thing would be in our new home. A big old
farmhouse, ves, for I like old, old houses; an
immense garden, with empress pears and every
possible kind of berry; big red barns and out-
houses; big pastures all around; cows and
calves, and horses to go driving with wherever
I wished. I should like best a red horse with a
white mane, a horse that looked wild; and a
little light basket-phaeton. And I would
drive, and crack my whip—oh, how I would
snap it! And there would be a lot of hens
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