"That's the kind of
face I like to see in the morning! So you've decided to be sensible
and forget your loneliness?"
But the Little Red House didn't say a word. He just went on smiling.
Then the big Blue-gum began to get uneasy.
"I do hope your troubles haven't turned you silly," he said. "You
haven't lost your senses, have you?"
"I?" cried the Little Red House. "Why, look down the valley! See
who's coming!"
Down, far down, the valley, just coming through the white gate, were
two figures that looked like tiny specks. And much nearer was another
speck, which was certainly a little dog.
"It's them--I mean those are they!" shouted the Little Red House
happily. "Sym and Emily Ann! And here comes our little dog."
"Well, you certainly have sharp eyes," replied the Blue-gum. "But I
suppose I'm getting old--over a hundred years, you know."
The two figures were through the white gate now, and had crossed the
red road out on to the stony flat--getting bigger and bigger as they
came; and the smile on the Little Red House seemed to grow broader
and broader. On they came, under the tree-ferns, up by the big rocks,
past the sign-post. And now the Little Red House could hear Sym
singing his Tinker's song.
But it was not quite the same song this time:
"Kettles and pans! Ho, kettles and pans!
Where's there a home like the tinkering man's?
Weary of wandering, home is the place--
The Little Red House with the smile on his face--
Weary and hungry, my Emily Ann.
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