Rebecca Mary by Annie Hamilton Donnell
page 88 of 118 (74%)
page 88 of 118 (74%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
Rebecca Mary measured them. Against the woodshed wall, with
chalk--it was not altogether an easy thing to do. The result startled her. With rather unsteady little fingers she measured from chalk mark to floor again, to make sure it was as bad as that. It was even a little worse. "Oh," sighed Rebecca Mary, "to think they belong to me--to think they're hitched on!" She gazed down at them with scorn and was ashamed of them. She tried to conceal their length with her brief skirts; but when she straightened up, there they were again, as long as ever. She sat down suddenly on the shed floor and drew them up underneath her. That was temporarily a relief. "If I sit here world without end nobody'll see 'em," grimly smiled Rebecca Mary. It was her legs Rebecca Mary measured against the woodshed wall. It was her legs she was ashamed of. No wonder the minister's wife had said to the minister going home from meeting, with Rebecca Mary behind them unawares,--no wonder she had said, "Robert, HAVE you noticed Rebecca Mary's legs?" Rebecca Mary had not heard the reply of the minister, for of course she had gone away then. If she had stayed she would have heard him say, with exaggerated prudery, "Felicia! My dear! Were you alluding to Rebecca Mary's limbs?" for the minister wickedly remembered inadvertent occasions when he himself had called legs legs. "LEGS," the minister's wife repeated, calmly--"Rebecca Mary's are too long for limbs. Robert, that child will grow up one of these |
|