The postman halted by the foot-bridge and blew his horn. The sound sent
the rabbits scampering into their burrows; and just as they began to
pop out again, Taffy came charging across the slope; whereupon they drew
back their noses in disgust, and to avoid the sand scattered by his heels.
The postman held up a blue envelope and waved it. "Here, 'tis come, at
last!"
"It may not be good news," said Taffy, clutching it, and then turning
it over in his hand.
"Well, that's true. And till you open it, it won't be any news at all."
"I wanted mother to be the first to know."
"Oh, very well—only as you say, it mightn't be good news."
"If it's bad news, I want to be alone. But why should they trouble to
write?"
"True again. I s'pose now you're sure it _is_ from them?"
"I can tell by the seal."
"Take it home, then," said the postman. "Only if you think 'tis for the
sake of a twiddling sixteen shilling a week that I traipse all these
miles every day——"