She caught her hat from a peg, opened the door, and Ringdo gamboled out before her. Down the path to the gate they sped and out into the tree-hedged road. Already the frost-pinched leaves, crimson-veined and golden, were being swung to earth by a soft wind that promised snow. With Ringdo galloping clumsily beside her Erie went down the road, trilling a snatch of a song.,
She looked her wonder. "But, Billy, you'd think they would want to enjoy building their own homes, wouldn't you?",
"I'm a little 'ard of 'earing," was the answer, and the picturesque old man put his hand to his ear shellwise..
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