"Well, I never!" said Zeb, who came in at that moment. "If wimmen folks don't beat all! Why, mum, ye look's if you was goin' to have an ice-cream festival." Zeb's only experience of rooms decorated with green vines had been when he had attended ice-cream festivals, given by churches to raise money. "Well, we'll have one some day, Zeb," said Mrs. March, laughing; "and we won't charge you any thing. I can make very good ice-cream." "Oh, to-night! to-night! mamma," exclaimed the children. "Can't to-night," Mrs. March said; "for the freezer's in the big box with all the other kitchen things." "I might make some crullers," said Mrs. Plummer. "Do! do! do!" cried Rob. "Mrs. Plummer's famous for crullers!" And he ran off, singing-- "Plummer! Cruller! Plummer! Cruller!" at the top of his lungs. It was nearly dark before Mr. March returned. Rob was the first to spy him. "Why, there's Pumpkinseed!" he exclaimed. "And what in the world's papa got in the wagon?" And he ran down the road to meet him. All the others ran too. The wagon did indeed present a very singular appearance. Four red wooden legs stuck far out in front; Mr. March was wedged in between them; high above his head bulged out a great roll of bolsters and pillows; and as far as you could see, away back in the wagon, there seemed to be nothing but bed-ticking, and legs of furniture. "Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March; "What did I tell you, Mrs. Plummer? That's what he went off for,--to buy furniture. Mr. March always must have things just right. Dear me! I wish he hadn't done it." But, as I told you long ago, it was Mrs. March's way always to make the best of what couldn't be helped. So she went forward to welcome her husband as pleasantly as if she were delighted to see all this new furniture. "Ah, Robert," she said, "now I know why you wouldn't take me. You wanted to surprise us all." "Yes," said Mr. March, his face beaming all over with satisfaction, "I didn't mean you should spend another night in such a desolate hole. There's another wagon load behind." At this Mrs. March could not help groaning. "Oh, Robert! Robert!" she said, "what did you buy so much for?" "Oh, part of the other load is feed for the cattle," said Mr. March. "That I'm responsible to Deacon Plummer for. Those were his orders."