They were mistaken if they thought their arrival was the unimportant matter it would seem to be, for, as the villagers began to come in, each made some excuse to enter the room, the first leaving the door ajar so the visitors could distinctly hear the postmaster, as he handed out the mail, importantly informing his friends: "The ladies from Sandbridge have come." So one after another made some pretext for seeing the strangers. "Where can I get a match?" one would inquire. "Oh, I've opened the wrong door," the next would say, while the third showed his ardent curiosity simply and honestly by merely standing in the doorway and beaming on the two ladies. Once or twice a salutation was offered, though more often it was not. The finale occurred when two little girls, with hair slicked tightly back and braided in flaxen pigtails, appeared, each holding the hand of a little boy with as shining a face as her own. Each little girl grasped a large red apple, in one hand, taking frequent succulent bites as she stared with round china-blue eyes at the strangers. The little roly-poly boy stared quite as fixedly, but at the first question addressed, the three fled, though Miss Ri and Linda could hear them shrilly reporting their experiences to someone in the next room. In due time the postmaster appeared. "You wanted a fix, ladies, I believe. I meant to have gotten Jo Wilson's, but he's gone to his wife's brother's funeral. Maybe I can get Tom Skinner's; I'll see. I reckon a buggy will do, and you can drive yourselves. Going to the old church, I hear." "I don't think we can drive," spoke up Miss Ri. "We don't know the road, in the first place, and in the second I don't care to drive a strange horse." The man looked quite taken aback; he had not counted on these complications. "Now, that's too bad," he said. "I just depended on Jo, you see, but funerals won't wait. I'll look around and find out what we can do." He departed, leaving the two to be peeped at over the window-sill by three pairs of china-blue eyes. Evidently the children's curiosity was not yet satisfied. "I feel as if I belonged to a menagerie," laughed Linda, "and as if they'd be feeding me peanuts next." Miss Ri laughed and beckoned to the children who incontinently took to their heels. After some time the postmaster returned saying he had been able to get a buggy and a boy to drive it. He hoped the ladies wouldn't mind sitting three on a seat; the boy wasn't so very big. It was the best he could do; he hoped they would be comfortable and if it hadn't been for Jo Wilson's wife's brother all would have been well.