And Peter and
Paul ran and ran, and Kit ran and ran, until he couldn't run any
more; he just sat down hard on the pavement and slid along. But
he didn't let go of the lines!
When Kit sat down, it jerked the dogs so hard that they stopped
suddenly. But Kat didn't stop; she went right on. She flew out
over the front of the cart and landed on the ground, among all of
Peter and Paul's legs! Then she stopped going, but she didn't
stop screaming.
And, though Kit was a boy, he screamed some too. Then Peter and
Paul pointed their noses up in the air and began to howl.
Way back, ever so far, Grandfather was coming along as fast as he
could; but that wasn't very fast.
All the doors on the street flew open, and all the good
housewives came clattering out to see what was the matter. They
picked Kat up and told her not to cry, and wiped her eyes with
their aprons, and stood Kit on his feet, and patted the dogs; and
pretty soon Peter and Paul stopped barking, and Kit and Kat
stopped screaming, and then it was time to find out what had
really happened.
Neither of the Twins had any broken bones; the good housewives
wiggled all their arms and legs, and felt of their bones to see.
But shocking things had happened, nevertheless! Kat had torn a
great hole in the front of her best dress; and Kit had worn two
round holes in the seat of his Sunday clothes, where he slid
along on the pavement; and, besides that, the milk was slopped
all over the bottom of the cart!
Just then Grandfather came up.
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