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Wych Hazel by Anna Bartlett Warner;Susan Warner
page 130 of 648 (20%)
young vixen of a black colt, and an intensely sedate horse of
no particular colour which Mrs. Bywank was accustomed to drive
to church. Relinquishing this respectable creature to Dingee,
Wych Hazel perched herself upon Vixen and set forth; walking
the colt now to keep by her little guide, but promising
herself a good trot on the way home.

The child had come to show her the way, and went in a
shuffling amble by the side of the colt's black legs. For a
good while they kept the road which had been travelled
yesterday; at last turned off to another which presently
became pleasantly shady. Woods closed it in, made it rather
lonely in fact, but nobody thought now of anything but the
grateful change. There were clouds which might hide the sun by
and by, but just now he was powerful and they were only
lifting their white heads stealthily in the west. At a rough
stile, beyond which a foot track led deeper into the wood, the
girl stopped.

'It's in here,' she said.

It was very clear that Vixen could not cross the stile. So her
young rider dismounted and looping up the heavy folds of her
riding skirt as best she might, disappeared from the eyes of
Dingee among the trees. Her dress was a pretty enough dress
after all, for though the skirts were dark and heavy, the
white dimity jacket was all airiness and ruffles; and once
fairly in the shade of the trees, Wych Hazel let her riding
hat fall back and rest on her shoulders in very childish
fashion indeed. Her little guide trotted on before her; till
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