"Us" - An Old Fashioned Story by Mrs. Molesworth
page 53 of 182 (29%)
page 53 of 182 (29%)
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"Stop that screaming, will ye?" said the man, and then, with a half
return to his former tone, "There's nothing to cry about, missy. It's just a scratch--I'll tie it up with a bit of rag," and he began fumbling about in his dirty pockets as he spoke. "There's the donkey and the others waiting for us just five minutes farther;" and for once the gipsy spoke the truth. The way he had brought the children was in reality a great round, chosen on purpose to bewilder them, so that the rest of his party had been able to reach the meeting-place he had appointed very much more quickly by the road. But Pamela, once thoroughly upset and frightened, was not to be so easily calmed down. "No, no," she screamed, "I won't let him touch me. Go away, go away, you ugly man," she cried, pushing him back with her tiny hands when he tried to come near. "I _won't_ let you touch me or carry me," for that now seemed to be the gipsy's intention, "leave me here with Duke; we don't want you any more." The man's dark face grew darker with the scowl that came over it. For half a moment he seemed on the point of seizing Pamela in his arms in spite of her cries and resistance. But there was Duke too to be considered; Pamela alone it would be easy to cover up, so that her cries should not be heard; but he could not carry both, and if the boy ran after them screaming, or if he tried to run home, to ask for help--for "home" was really not far off--there was no knowing what trouble the anything but blessed "brats" might bring upon worthy Mick and his horde! So that respectable gentleman decided on different tactics. "You're a very naughty little girl," he said--speaking, however, not |
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