The Slowcoach | Page 6

as she called the children (none of whom, however, was
quite so dear to her as their mother), and listened to their adventures.
On those evenings on which he came to "The Gables" Mr. Lenox
always looked in on her for a little gossip; and this was called his
"runcible spoon"--the joke being that Mr. Lenox and Runcie were
engaged to be married.
And now you know the Avory family root and branch.
CHAPTER 2
: THE SOUND OF MYSTERIOUS WHEELS
One day in late June the Avories and the Rotherams and Horace
Campbell were sitting at tea under the cedar talking about a great
tragedy that had befallen. For Mrs. Avory had just heard that Mrs.
Dudeney--their regular landlady at Sea View, in the Isle of Wight,

where they had lodgings every summer for years and years, and where
they were all ready to go next month as usual--Mrs. Avory had just
heard that Mrs. Dudeney had been taken very ill, and no other rooms
were to be had.
Here was a blow! For the Rotherams always went to Sea View too, and
had a tent on the little strip of beach under the wood adjoining the
Avories', and they did everything together. And now it was very likely
that the Avories would not get lodgings at all, and certainly would not
get any half so good as Mrs. Dudeney's, where their ways were known,
and their bathing dresses were always dried at once in case they wanted
to go in again, and so on.
They were all discussing this together, and saying what a shame it was,
when suddenly the unfamiliar sound of the opening of the old
stableyard gates was heard, and then heavy wheels scrunched in and
men's voices called out directions, such as, "Steady, Joe!" "A little bit
to the near side, Bill!" and so forth.
Now, since the stable yard had not been used for years, it was no
wonder that the whole party was, so to speak, on tiptoe, longing to run
and investigate. But Mrs. Avory had always objected very strongly to
inquisitiveness, and so they stayed where they were and waited
expectantly. And then, after a minute or so, Kink came up to the table
with a twinkle in his old eye and a letter in his old hand.
"Didn't we hear the sound of a carriage?" Mrs. Avory asked.
"Did you, mum?" said old Kink, who was a great tease.
"I'm sure there were wheels," said Mrs. Avory.
Kink said nothing.
"Of course there were wheels," said Robert. "Don't be such an old
humbug."
But Kink only twinkled.

"It's only coals," said Gregory; "isn't it?"
"The first I've heard of coals`" said Kink.
"Kinky dear," said Janet, "is it something awfully exciting?"
"Nothing very exciting about a house, that I know of, Miss Janet," said
Kink.
"A house!" cried Janet. "It couldn't have been a house!"
"There's all sorts of houses," said Kink; "there's houses on the ground
and there's houses on--"
"O Kinky," cried Hester, "I know!"
And she clapped her hands and absolutely screamed. "I know. It's a
caravan!"
"A caravan!" the children shouted together, and with one movement
they dashed off to see.
Old Kink laughed and Mrs. Avory laughed.
"It's a caravan right enough," he said. "And a very pretty one too, and
none of they nasty gypsies in it neither."
"But where does it come from?" Mrs. Avory asked, and in reply Kink
handed her the letter; but she had done no more than open it when Janet
ran back to drag her to see the wonderful sight.
Gregory, I need hardly say, was already on the box with the whip in his
hand, while all the others were inside, except Horace Campbell, who
had climbed on the roof, and was telephoning down the chimney. The
men and horse that had brought it were gone.
"Oh, mother," cried Hester, "whose is it? Is it ours? "
"I expect the letter tells us everything," said Mrs. Avory, and, sitting on

the top of the steps, she unfolded the letter, and, after looking through,
read it aloud.
This is what it said:
DEAR CHILDREN,
"It has long been my wish to give you a new kind of present, but I have
hitherto had no luck. I thought once of an elephant, and even wrote to
Jamrach about the idea--a small elephant, not a mountain---but I gave
that up. Chiswick is too crowded, and your garden is too small. But
now I think I have found the very thing. A caravan. It belonged to a
lady artist, who, having to live abroad, wished to sell it; and it is now
yours. I tell you this so that mother need not be afraid that it is dirty. It
should reach you this