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NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN
NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN
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CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK 7
II. A BIT OF WILFULNESS 30
III. THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS 42
IV. THREE LITTLE CANDLES 62
V. UNCLE AND AUNT 83
VI. THE CORN-BALL MONEY 111
VII. THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS 123
VIII. DOLLY PHONE 142
IX. A NURSERY TYRANT 165
X. WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID 179
XI. TWO PAIRS OF EYES 200
XII. THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE 211
XIII. PINK AND SCARLET 227
XIV. DOLLY'S LESSON 239
XV. A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 252
XVI. A GRANTED WISH 269
HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK.
It was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole
year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the
direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in
old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day
of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells
then; storm and sorrow appear impossible things; the barest and ugliest
spot takes on a brief charm and, for the moment, seems lovely and
desirable.
"That's a picturesque old place," said a lady on the back seat of the
big wagon in which Hiram Swift was taking his summer boarders to drive.
They were passing a low, wide farmhouse, gray from want of paint, with a
shabby barn and sheds attached, all overarched by tall elms. The narrow
hay-field and the vegetable-patch ended in a rocky hillside, with its
steep ledges, overgrown and topped with tall pines and firs, which made
a dense green background to the old buildings.
"I don't know about its being like a picter," said Hiram, dryly, as he
flicked away a fly from the shoulder of his horse, "but it isn't much
by way of a farm. That bit of hay-field is about all the land there is
that's worth anything; the rest is all rock. I guess the Widow Gale
doesn't take much comfort in its bein' picturesque. She'd be glad
enough to have the land made flat, if she could."
"Oh, is that the Gale farm, where the silver-mine is said to be?"
"Yes, marm; at least, it's the farm where the man lived that, 'cordin'
to what folks say, said he'd found a silver-mine. I don't take a great
deal of stock in the story myself."
PAGE
I. HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK 7
II. A BIT OF WILFULNESS 30
III. THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS 42
IV. THREE LITTLE CANDLES 62
V. UNCLE AND AUNT 83
VI. THE CORN-BALL MONEY 111
VII. THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS 123
VIII. DOLLY PHONE 142
IX. A NURSERY TYRANT 165
X. WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID 179
XI. TWO PAIRS OF EYES 200
XII. THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE 211
XIII. PINK AND SCARLET 227
XIV. DOLLY'S LESSON 239
XV. A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 252
XVI. A GRANTED WISH 269
HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK.
It was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole
year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the
direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in
old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day
of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells
then; storm and sorrow appear impossible things; the barest and ugliest
spot takes on a brief charm and, for the moment, seems lovely and
desirable.
"That's a picturesque old place," said a lady on the back seat of the
big wagon in which Hiram Swift was taking his summer boarders to drive.
They were passing a low, wide farmhouse, gray from want of paint, with a
shabby barn and sheds attached, all overarched by tall elms. The narrow
hay-field and the vegetable-patch ended in a rocky hillside, with its
steep ledges, overgrown and topped with tall pines and firs, which made
a dense green background to the old buildings.
"I don't know about its being like a picter," said Hiram, dryly, as he
flicked away a fly from the shoulder of his horse, "but it isn't much
by way of a farm. That bit of hay-field is about all the land there is
that's worth anything; the rest is all rock. I guess the Widow Gale
doesn't take much comfort in its bein' picturesque. She'd be glad
enough to have the land made flat, if she could."
"Oh, is that the Gale farm, where the silver-mine is said to be?"
"Yes, marm; at least, it's the farm where the man lived that, 'cordin'
to what folks say, said he'd found a silver-mine. I don't take a great
deal of stock in the story myself."
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