Four Girls and a Compact by Annie Hamilton Donnell
page 49 of 69 (71%)
page 49 of 69 (71%)
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gazing into the thick mesh of leaves overhead. "Nobody ever said
'Teacher! Teacher!' to me." "There never were any negatives to be 'touched up'--nobody ever had their pictures taken," Laura Ann murmured, dreamy, too. "I've always been here beside this brook, lying on my back--what a beautiful world it's always been!" The Talented One sat rigidly straight. "There have always been handkerchiefs," she sighed, "and there always will be. I shall have to go back there and sell them. When I look at all these leaves, it reminds me--there are leaves on handkerchiefs, straggling round the borders--ugh!" It was foolish talk, perhaps, but it was the place and the time for foolish talk. After a little more of it they drifted apart, wandering this way and that in a delightful, aimless way. So little of their four lives had been aimless or especially delightful that they reveled in the sweet opportunity. Loraine wandered farthest. She came after awhile to a clearing where a small pond glimmered redly with the parting rays of the sun. A great boy lounged beside the pond dangling a pole. Loraine recognized him as Jane Cotton's Sam. "Oh!" she said, "now I've made a noise and scared away your fish!" "Ain't any fish," muttered the boy. He did not turn around. The pole slanted further and further, till it lay on the bank beside the boy. "Oh, maybe there are, if you wait long enough--and nobody comes crashing through the bushes! I don't suppose--I mean if you are not going to use |
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