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The Flag-Raising by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin
page 50 of 57 (87%)
maltreated? To be dipped in the rain-water tub, soused again and
again; to be held under the spout and pumped on; to be rubbed
furiously with rough roller towels; to be dried with hot
flannels! And is it not well-nigh incredible that at the close
of such an hour the ends of the long hair should still stand out
straight, the braids having been turned up two inches by Alice,
and tied hard in that position with linen thread ?
"Get out the skirt-board, Jane," cried Miranda, to whom
opposition served as a tonic, "and move that flat-iron on to the
front o' the stove. Rebecca, set down in that low chair beside
the board, and, Jane, you spread out her hair on it and cover it
up with brown paper. Don't cringe, Rebecca; the worst's over, and
you've borne up real good! I'll be careful not to pull your hair
nor scorch you, and oh, how I'd like to have Alice Robinson
acrost my knee and a good slipper in my right hand! There, you're
all ironed out and your Aunt Jane can put on your white dress and
braid your hair up again good and tight. Perhaps you won't be the
homeliest of the States, after all; but when I see you comin' in
to breakfast I said to myself: 'I guess if Maine looked like
that, it would n't never 'a' been admitted into the Union!'"
When Uncle Sam and the stagecoach drew up to the brick house with
a grand swing and a flourish, the Goddess of Liberty and most of
the States were already in their places on the "harricane deck."
Words fail to describe the gallant bearing of the horses, their
headstalls gayly trimmed and their harnesses dotted with little
flags. The stage windows were hung in bunting, and from within
beamed Columbia, looking out from the bright frame as if proud of
her freight of loyal children. Patriotic streamers floated from
whip, from dash-board and from rumble, and the effect of the
whole was something to stimulate the most phlegmatic voter.
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