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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"A Bicycle of Cathay"

"It would be utterly useless," I said; "they would do me no
good."
In the course of the next morning I found myself alone. I put on my
cap, lighted a pipe, and started down the flag walk to the gate. In a
few moments I heard running steps behind me, and, turning, I saw Miss
Edith. "Don't look cross," she said. "Were you going for a walk?"
I scouted the idea of crossness, and said that I had thought of taking
a stroll.
"That seems funny," said she, "for nobody in this house ever goes out
for a lonely walk. But you cannot go just yet. There's a man at the
back of the house with a letter for you."
"A letter!" I exclaimed. "Who in the world could have sent a letter to
me here?"
"The only way to find out," she answered, "is to go and see."
Under a tree at the back of the house I found a young negro man, very
warm and dusty, who handed me a letter, which, to my surprise, bore no
address. "How do you know this is for me?" said I.
He was a good-natured looking fellow.


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