"Wait? Yes, indeed, every blessed one of us," declared his father.
"Goodness me, Jasper, what are you thinking of to ask such a question,
after this pull up here? Why, we sha'n't stir from this place for an
hour."
"I supposed we'd have to wait," said Jasper, rushing off over the
rocks, feeling how good it was to get down on one's feet again, and run
and race. And getting Polly and Tom and Adela, they ran down where the
donkeys were tethered and saw them fed, and did a lot of exploring; and
it didn't seem any time before an Alpine horn sounded above their
heads, and there was Grandpapa, tooting away and calling them to come
up and buy their woollen socks; for they were going to start.
So they scrambled up, and picked out their socks, and, each seizing a
pair in one hand and an alpenstock with a long, sharp spike on the end
in the other, they ran off down the zigzag path to the glacier, two or
three guides helping the others along. At the foot of the rocky path
the four drew up.
"O dear, it's time to put on these horrible old stockings," grumbled
Adela, shaking hers discontentedly.
"'Good old stockings,' you'd much better say," broke in Jasper.
"They're better than a broken neck," observed Tom, just meaning to ask
Polly if he could put hers on for her. But he was too slow in getting
at it, and Jasper was already kneeling on the rocks and doing that very
thing.
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