Adopting an Abandoned Farm by Kate Sanborn
page 55 of 91 (60%)
page 55 of 91 (60%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
"I hear you like pets," she said, "Well, I've got some tame rats, a
father and mother and thirteen little ones, and a mother with four. They're orful cunning. Hope you'll take 'em." A big, red-faced, black-bearded, and determined man drove one day into the yard with an immense wagon, in which was standing a stupid, vicious old goat, and almost insisted on leaving it at a most ridiculously high price. "Heard that the woman that had come to live here wanted most every animal that Noah got into the ark; was sure she'd like a goat." It was with considerable difficulty that he could be induced to take it away. Dogs, dogs, dogs--from mastiff to mongrel, from St. Bernard to toy poodle--the yard really swarmed with them just before the first of May, when dog taxes must be paid! A crow that could talk, but rather objectionably, was offered me. A pert little boy, surrounded by his equally pert mates, said, after coming uninvited to look over my assortment: "Got most everything, hain't ye? Got a monkey?" Then his satellites all giggled. "No, not yet. Will not you come in?" Second giggle, less hearty. A superannuated clergyman walked three miles and a quarter in a heavy |
|