It took a tremendous effort on the part of Sandy, together
with all the help the sleepy sulky boys would give, to get the right
collection of dreams into the Wash Lady's sack, and to keep the wrong
ones out.
"Letter from the Old Country," Sandy cried. "That's it, boys, more
lively there. Tell that Pound of Tea to step up--No, no pink silk
stockings to-day, thank you. Tell that Landlord the rent's paid, I'll
let him know when he's wanted. Hand over that pile of mended
clothing--and the pay envelope, mind it's the right amount--all the
rest of you, step aside!" Waving away a gay bonnet with a bird on it,
a bottle marked "Patent Medicine," and the persistent pink stockings,
the Sandman closed the mouth of Mrs. O'Flynn's sack, and swung it on
his shoulder, nodding to the children to watch what would happen.
Much excited, they crowded round the open door in the side of the big
rock and peered down into what seemed to be a kind of dark well with a
toboggan-slide descending into it. Sandy placed the Wash Lady's sack
at the top of the slide, and before the children could so much as
wink, it had slid off into the darkness and disappeared from sight.
"Oh, my!" cried Ann, "Is it a shoot-the-chutes? Does it bump when it
gets there?"
"No, no," said the Sandman. "No bumps whatsoever, the most comfortable
kind of traveling I know, in fact you're there the same time you
start, and I'd like to know how you can beat that? I ought to know,
for I use this route myself on my rounds a little earlier in the
evening.
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