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The Pot of Gold - And Other Stories by Mary E. Wilkins
page 60 of 231 (25%)
He smuggled some food out to her, and she played merrily about him all
day; and at night he tucked her into one of the dolls' cradles with
lace pillows and quilt of rose-colored silk.

The next morning when the Monks were going the rounds, the father
who inspected the wax doll bed, was a bit nearsighted, and he never
noticed the difference between the dolls and Peter's little sister,
who swung herself on her crutches, and looked just as much like a wax
doll as she possibly could. So the two were delighted with the success
of their plan.

They went on thus for a few days, and Peter could not help being happy
with his darling little sister, although at the same time he could not
help worrying for fear he was doing wrong.

Something else happened now, which made him worry still more;
the Prince ran away. He had been watching for a long time for an
opportunity to possess himself of a certain long ladder made of
twisted evergreen ropes, which the Monks kept locked up in the
toolhouse. Lately, by some oversight, the toolhouse had been left
unlocked one day, and the Prince got the ladder. It was the latter
part of the afternoon, and the Christmas Monks were all in the chapel
practicing Christmas carols. The Prince found a very large hamper, and
picked as many Christmas presents for himself as he could stuff into
it; then he put the ladder against the high gate in front of the
convent, and climbed up, dragging the hamper after him. When he
reached the top of the gate, which was quite broad, he sat down to
rest for a moment before pulling the ladder up so as to drop it on the
other side.

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