The rain that had fallen heavily during the night lay in flashing pools that filled the street with suns.

Here and there were little gardens before the houses, and the bushes in them were hung with bright drops, so bright that the rain seemed to have fallen from the sun himself, not from the clouds.
"Why, goodness gracious!" cried the draper, "here's your excuse come direct!" Under the very nose of the doctor's great horse stood a little woman-child, staring straight up at the huge red head above her.

Now Ruber was not quite gentle, and it was with some dismay that his master, although the animal showed no offense at the glowering little thing, pulled him back a step or two with the curb, the thought darting through him how easily with one pash of his mighty hoof the horse could annihilate a mirrored universe.
"Where from ?" he asked, by what he would himself have called a half-conscious cerebration.
"From somewhere they say you don't believe in, doctor," answered the draper.

"It's little Amanda, the minister's own darling--Naughty little dear!" he continued, his round good-humored face wrinkled all over with smiles, as he caught up the truant, "what ever do you mean by splashing through every gutter between home and here, making a little drab of yourself?
Why your frock is as wet as a dish-clout!--_and_ your shoes! My gracious!" The little one answered only by patting his cheeks, which in shape much resembled her own, with her little fat puds, as if she had been beating a drum, while Faber looked down amused and interested.
"Here, doctor!" the draper went on, "you take the little mischief on the saddle before you, and carry her home: that will be your excuse." As he spoke he held up the child to him.

Faber took her, and sitting as far back in the saddle as he could, set her upon the pommel.