Old Caravan Days by Mary Hartwell Catherwood
page 81 of 193 (41%)
page 81 of 193 (41%)
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"Bobaday!" whispered aunt Corinne, creeping on tiptoe toward him,
and anxious to keep him from exclaiming when he saw her. "What did you get up for?" he whispered back. "What did _you_ get up for?" retaliated aunt Corinne. Robert Day made room for her on the log under the canopy, and she leaned down and laced her shoes after being seated. "Ma Padgett's just as tight asleep! What'd she say if she knew we wasn't in bed!" It was so exciting and so nearly wicked to be out of bed and prowling when their elders were asleep, they could not possibly enjoy the sin in silence. "Ain't it nice?" whispered aunt Corinne. "I saw you fixin' this little tent, and then I sl-ip-ped up and hooked some of my clothes on, and didn't dast to breathe 'fear Ma Padgett'd hear me. There must be lots of children in the camp." "Yes; I've heard the babies cryin'." "Do you s'pose there's any gipsy folks along?" "Do 'now," whispered Bobaday, his tone inclining to an admission that gipsy folks might be along. "The kind that would steal us," explained aunt Corinne. This mere suggestion was an added pleasure; it made them shiver and |
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