|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 71
It was very queer how they all acted when they heard the letter. There
was not another cross word said--or a word of any kind for that matter.
Not one of them even looked at the others, and it was not until poor
Spot gave a big snuff that each of them found out that the rest were
crying.
"Well, I know what _I'm_ going to do," said Minx, at last. "I'm just
going to get that child a tree; that's what I'm going to do."
"And I'm going to help you," Fran�aise said, as heartily as if she were
not a fine lady at all. "She ruined my dress, and tore my lace, and put
my hair in such a state as never was; but I don't care. She wants a
tree, and she's going to have it."
"You ought to have heard how she talked to her papa and old Luce
to-night," sobbed the one-eyed baby. "It was enough to break a body's
heart."
"We did hear her," they all snuffled.
Then they wiped their eyes, and a minute afterward, with much chatter,
they began to make preparations for getting the tree.
All but Spot. Scrubby had used him the worst of all, she loved him so.
She had pulled every hair on him loose, and had twisted his tail until
it hung crooked; and yet Spot could not speak or do anything for crying
over little Scrubby's grief.
III.
Pretty soon, Lucy, who had listened to as much of this talk as she
could, heard the whole party go out of the back door and start off
somewhere. She was in a great state of mind about it. Not for anything
in the world would she waken Scrubby; but oh! how she longed to tumble
down-stairs and rush off after the rest!
What a party it was that did go out of that back door! And in what
style they went! Ned, the canary, was the only one left behind; and
those who couldn't walk, rode. For they had hitched the horse to
Scrubby's little battered sled, and made a grand sleighing party of it.
Jumping Jack drove, of course. The French lady had the seat of honor on
the sled, and much trouble she had to keep it, for there was nothing to
hold on by, and her head was so loose that it nearly threw her over.
Lyd had wrapped a dish-towel about her, and felt very comfortable and
well-dressed; while Peg had come just as she was, and they both rolled
about on the sled in a very dangerous fashion.
The late chicken held on with his claws to the curl of the runner, and
flapped his wings and squawked every time the sled plunged a little in
the snow. Minx rode horseback as before, while Spot went afoot, jumping
and barking, and snapping up a mouthful of snow every few minutes.
But not one of them knew where they were going, or what they were going
to do. They meant to get Scrubby a tree somehow, and that was all they
knew about it.
At last, Peg said (Peg was a very sensible baby, if she _was_ raveled
out):
"What are we going to do, anyhow?"
"Why, we're going to get a tree for Scrubby," they all answered.
"Well, what kind of a tree?--and where?"
That was a poser. None of them had thought so far as that. At last,
Minx said:
"Why, any kind--somewhere."
"There are plenty of trees in France," said Fran�aise.
"Then that's the place for us to go," said Jumping Jack; and at once
they raced off to the end of the garden, on their way to France.
"This aint the way, after all," Minx said, when they got to the fence.
"The world comes to an end just over there. I got up on the fence one
day, and there was nothing beyond but a great, deep hole."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|