Old Caravan Days by Mary Hartwell Catherwood
page 39 of 193 (20%)
page 39 of 193 (20%)
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It was a small square cellar, having earthen sides, but piles of
pine boxes made ambushes everywhere. "Come out!" Grandma Padgett spoke again. "We won't have any tricks played. But if you're hurt, we can help you." It was like addressing solid darkness, for the chip was languishing upon its coals, and cast but a dim red glare around the shovel. Still some being crept toward them from the darkness, uttering a prolonged and hearty groan, as if to explode at once the accumulations of silence. CHAPTER VI. MR. MATTHEWS. Aunt Corinne realizing it was a man, rushed to the top of the steps and hid her eyes behind the door. She knew her mother could deal with him, and, if he offered any harm, pour coals of fire upon his head in a literal sense. But she did not feel able to stand by. Robert, on the other hand, seeing no red nightcap on the head thrust up toward them, supported his grandmother strongly, and even helped to pull the man up-stairs. One touch of his soft, foolish body was enough to convince any one |
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