`` Do n't care ; I can get home myself . '' `` Is it a great way ? '' asked Rob , looking at his little stubby boots , scratched and wet with his long wandering . `` It 's six miles , I guess . '' Nan 's ideas of distance were vague , and her faith in her own powers great . `` I think we better go now , '' suggested Rob , presently . `` I sha n't till I have picked over my berries ; '' and Nan began what seemed to Rob an endless task . `` Oh , dear ! you said you 'd take good care of me , '' he sighed , as the sun seemed to drop behind the hill all of a sudden . `` Well I am taking good care of you as hard as I can . Do n't be cross , child ; I 'll go in a minute , '' said Nan , who considered five-year-old Robby a mere infant compared to herself . So little Rob sat looking anxiously about him , and waiting patiently , for , spite of some misgivings , he felt great confidence in Nan . `` I guess it 's going to be night pretty soon , '' he observed , as if to himself , as a mosquito bit him , and the frogs in a neighboring marsh began to pipe up for the evening concert . `` My goodness me ! so it is . Come right away this minute , or they will be gone , '' cried Nan , looking up from her work , and suddenly perceiving that the sun was down . `` I heard a horn about an hour ago ; may be they were blowing for us , '' said Rob , trudging after his guide as she scrambled up the steep hill . `` Where was it ? '' asked Nan , stopping short . `` Over that way ; '' he pointed with a dirty little finger in an entirely wrong direction .
`` Let 's go that way and meet them ; '' and XXXXX wheeled about , and began to trot through the bushes , feeling a trifle anxious , for there were so many cow-paths all about she could not remember which way they came .
Nan Rob Robby evening finger horn minute night right spite