"Here's your basket," said the Post-office woman. She went in and brought out the basket. It was full of fat, red gooseberries.
"I dare say Perks's children would like them," said she.
"You are an old dear," said Phyllis, throwing her arms around the old lady's fat waist. "Perks will be pleased."
"He won't be half so pleased as I was with your needle-book and the tie and the pretty flowers and all," said the old lady, patting Phyllis's shoulder. "You're good little souls, that you are. Look here. I've got a pram round the back in the wood-lodge. It was got for my Emmie's first, that didn't live but six months, and she never had but that one. I'd like Mrs. Perks to have it. It 'ud be a help to her with that great boy of her's. Will you take it along?"
"Oh!" said all the children together.
When Mrs. Ransome had got out the perambulator and taken off the careful papers that covered it, and dusted it all over, she said:—
"Well, there it is. I don't know but what I'd have given it to her before if I'd thought of it. Only I didn't quite know if she'd accept of it from me. You tell her it was my Emmie's little one's pram—"
