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Page 36
"The clock must have stopped!" she said, bending her ear to
listen.
But it hadn't, and Marjorie suddenly realized that a whole day,
solitary and alone, is an interminable length of time.
"Oh, dear," she sighed, putting her head down on her arms on the
step above, "I do wish I had gone up the Other Stairs! This day is
going to last forever! I just know it is! But if it ever DOES get
over, I never want to see the Front Stairs again!"
CHAPTER X
A LONG DAY
Marjorie had expected to derive much satisfaction, during her
sojourn on the stairs, from playing with her kitten. But Puff ran
away almost immediately, and no amount of calling or coaxing could
bring her back.
Sighing deeply, Marjorie tried to amuse herself reading the books
she had brought. But the light was not very good on the stairs,
and somehow, too, the books seemed to have lost their interest.
Thinking over what she could do to make the time pass, she
remembered her paint-box. She was fond of painting, and concluded
she would try to paint a little sketch of the stairs to put in her
Memory Book to represent this dreadful day.
"Not that I need anything to make me remember it," she thought,
"for I'm sure I can never, never, never forget it." But when she
had her other materials all prepared she realized she had no glass
of water, so, of course, her paints were useless.
Even her paper-doll's house seemed to have lost its flavor. She
had no new things to paste in, nor had she any paste.
She began to learn what a lot of little things make up the
comforts of life, and, utterly discouraged, she tried to think of
something to while away the time.
At last she concluded she would start at the top and go down,
sitting on each step five minutes. "This," she calculated to
herself, "will fill up a long time. There are seventeen steps, and
seventeen times five is,--well, I don't know how much it is,
exactly, but it must be several hours. Perhaps, when I get down to
the bottom it will be afternoon!"
With a reviving sense of interest in something, she sat on the top
step and waited for five minutes to pass. Never had a period of
time seemed so long. It was twice as long as a church service, and
a dozen times as long as the ride in the cars when she came up to
Grandma's. But at last the five minutes was up, and with a little
jounce Marjorie slid down to the next step, and prepared to spend
another five. This was longer yet, and at the third-step Marjorie
gave up this plan, as being the most dreadful thing she had ever
tried.
She began to feel like crying, but was determined not to do
anything so foolish.
Slowly and wearily the morning dragged away, and at last, when
Marjorie had begun to feel that lassitude which comes from utter
weariness, Jane appeared with a tray of luncheon.
Marjorie brightened up at once. "Oh, Jane," she cried, "I'm SO
glad to see you! I AM so lonesome!"
"Pore lamb!" said Jane, sympathetically; "I'm thinkin' ye're purty
nigh dead, be now. But here's the foine lunch for ye. See,
darlint, here's chicken and strawberries and jelly and all the
things ye like best! Cheer up, now, and ate yer food."
"Indeed, I will! Oh, Jane, what lovely things! Fresh little cakes,
with pink icing; and gooseberry jam! But don't go away, Jane."
"I must, Miss Midget. Yer grandma towld me not to shtay wid yez."
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