" She climbed the fence into the ten-acre lot and he
followed her, walking slowly and stumbling over the little hillocks in
the pasture as if he was thinking of something else and did not notice
them.
"My, but you're clumsy!" said the little girl. "Are your feet tired?"
"No, miss; it's my whiskers; they tire very easily in this warm
weather," said he. "I wish it would snow, don't you?"
"'Course not, Shaggy Man," replied Dorothy, giving him a severe look.
"If it snowed in August it would spoil the corn and the oats and the
wheat; and then Uncle Henry wouldn't have any crops; and that would
make him poor; and--"
"Never mind," said the shaggy man. "It won't snow, I guess. Is this
the lane?"
"Yes," replied Dorothy, climbing another fence; "I'll go as far as
the highway with you."
"Thankee, miss; you're very kind for your size, I'm sure,"
said he gratefully.
"It isn't everyone who knows the road to Butterfield," Dorothy
remarked as she tripped along the lane; "but I've driven there many a
time with Uncle Henry, and so I b'lieve I could find it blindfolded."
"Don't do that, miss," said the shaggy man earnestly; "you might make
a mistake."
"I won't," she answered, laughing. "Here's the highway. Now it's the
second--no, the third turn to the left--or else it's the fourth.
Let's see. The first one is by the elm tree, and the second is by the
gopher holes; and then--"
"Then what?" he inquired, putting his hands in his coat pockets.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25