And now the policeman was coming up around the bend of the road after them, blowing his nose and frowning.
“Just let me handle him alone,” Grandma told Grimp out of the corner of her mouth.
He nodded and strolled off into the meadow to pass the time with the pony. She’d had a lot of experience in handling policemen.
“Well, well, young man,” he heard her greeting his cousin behind him. “That looks like a bad cold you’ve got.”
The policeman sneezed.
“Wish it were a cold,” he said resignedly. “It’s hay-fever. Can’t do a thing with it. Now I’ve got a list here—”
“Hay-fever?” said Grandma. “Step up into the trailer a moment. We’ll fix that.”
“About this list—” began Runny, and stopped. “You think you got something that would fix it?” he asked skeptically. “I’ve been to I don’t know how many doctors and they didn’t help any.”
“Doctors!” said Grandma. Grimp heard her heels click up the metal steps that led into the back of the trailer. “Come right in, won’t take a moment.”
“Well—” said Runny doubtfully, but he followed her inside.
Grimp winked at the pony. The first round went to Grandma.
“Hello, pony,” he said.
His worries couldn’t reduce his appreciation of Grandma’s fabulous draft-animal. Partly, of course, it was just that it was such an enormous beast. The long, round barrel of its body rested on short legs with wide, flat feet which were settled deep in the meadow’s mud by now. At one end was a spiky c