“The Captain said he was sorry not to send them sooner.”
He could not seem to think of anything else to say, that was of especial importance, so turned to go.
“Wait,” Sally commanded, in the tone of one who is used to having her orders obeyed. “I must take the berries to my mother and have her empty them out, because Captain Saulsby will want his boxes back again. And I think,”—here she looked him over solemnly from head to foot—“I think that you look thirsty.”
Billy grinned and admitted that there might be some reason for that appearance.
Getting acquainted with Sally was as rapid a process as had been getting acquainted with Captain Saulsby. The tall glass of cold milk and the plate of fresh gingerbread certainly put an end to any formalities between them, and the expedition down to the hen-house to see the new brood of deliciously round, fat ducklings carried them far on the road toward friendship. Billy thought that the ducks looked rather like Sally herself, they were so small and fat and yellow and so very sure of themselves, but he did not summon courage
